Fallout 3: Project Impurity
by holyflyinfish
Summary: James had a dream to purify the world with clean water, most called him selfless, but his charitable acts isolated his son; Lyle, who took selflessness as abandonment. Lyle uses his hatred and anger to remodel the capital wasteland in a bad way.
1. Lyle's Message

"_My name is Lyle. It might not seem important now, but maybe one day it will; I was never convinced. I was born in Vault-101 and for the longest time I was told I was going to die there as well, but yet here I am. My father was a selfless man, at least that's what everyone tells me. He had a dream to purify the world and create peace, on the other hand I did all that I could to destroy it. A part of me deep down inside wishes I was like him, but I let fury and anger distort me. I blinded myself to all of the important things. All I seek now is my own forgiveness. I'll create my own Wasteland evolution, not by cleaning the water or sweeping through and killing the infected, I've found the key to taking the next step. As I said before…My name is Lyle and don't you forget it because it's going to be my name that's going to change the world."_


	2. Chapter 1: Life Before The Rot

Vault 101 was a prison Lyle always thought he was doomed to die in. He was told many times by every citizen that he was born there and he was going to die there too. It was a useless existence and Lyle hated it, _passionately_. In his opinion the vaults were filled with spineless people who couldn't handle reality, excluding him of course. The idea of leaving never crossed his mind despite the constant inquiry of dwelling underground and why it was a horrible life. There was nothing out there, only his imagination could fill in the blank spaces. He fabricated a world full of ash, where the sun hid behind dust that clouded the heavens. Soot flurried onto the ground like snow and the sun; a figment of his imagination. Among the withered world there was a large steel door, each ridge locked into place. Huge white lettering 101 warding off any who desired safety. _No on ever entered and no one ever left. _

That was all he could think of; the big mysterious world beyond the vault. Inside, the ash and rubble was replaced with dull steel walls that emitted a cool wave onto anyone who passed by. All around it was a gloomy place lit with fluorescent lights, the only color matched those sewn into his Vault 101 jumpsuit. The halls had no personality, no pleasurable appearance, but inside each living space the residents were allowed to chose the decoration. Lyle was used to the tacky yellow paneling, the faded couch, salmon colored chairs and the metallic tables that attempted to imitate wood. There were a few pictures that littered the wall of scenery, one with a strange animal his father said used to be called, _a duck_. Other than that everything was generic, the people were close enough too.

At the age ten he got his pip-boy 3000, a party, a copy of Gronak the Barbarian and a BB gun. Sixteen he took his G.O.A.T and realized he was doomed to be a sanitation '_officer_', specifically known as a janitor. It was an age to discover his true position in the spectrum of morality; choosing to side with the Tunnel Snakes, inflicting havoc onto the population in Vault 101. His outlandish actions were shunned and punished by everyone, even Butch Deloria found reason to throw Lyle under the bus when justice came knocking on their doors. Lyle took the fall for everything, mostly because he was the only one out of the Tunnel Snakes who had the balls to deal with any shit dished out, even when the Overseer set down his platter. His father always commented on Lyle's determination and fearlessness, attributes similar to his mother; qualities his father would never know.

Nineteen was an age of new frontier, even though the map only consisted of a female figure. His favorite landmarks were the twin hills and the cavern down below. As for his ambitions Lyle grudged against his job, he wanted to be an engineer, he wanted to fix and create things, not to mention he had tendencies he couldn't explain. He attempted to talk to his father, medically about having a mental illness and not something physical. James insisted that was myth from the past; evolution and advanced medicine fixed all those problems. Lyle tried to do some digging but never found out what his issue was. Common knowledge would diagnose him as a pyromaniac, which also lead to fascination with explosives. He didn't know that and probably never would be able to name it.

As for his relationship with his father, Lyle looked up to the man. He may have had terrible judgment, but he did make an effort to be on great grounds with his father. James was all Lyle really had in the hole he lived in. His mother died a long time ago during child birth and Lyle had only one _loyal_ friend, Amata; whom he always had conflicts with. He treated her so badly and just like a naive puppy, she kept coming back to play ball. Her efforts were highly appreciated, but Lyle would never show it. Ha no. He was NOT the kind of man to melt to mush for a girl, real men didn't cry. If it weren't for the Overseer being a major chockablock, Amata would have found herself in Lyle's belt, but for now, Susie Mack fit the bill.

* * *

James' green eyes focused on the pixilated words on the terminal upon his desk, each word read was disrupted by a sudden tap of a ball hitting the floor and flying back up into his son's palm. He tried to remain calm even though irritation slowly built up inside him. Lyle's vision looked at his father intently throwing the ball to the floor and gingerly catching it when it came back, he aimed to get his father off track. James let out a long sigh as he took his hand to his chin and positioned it skeptically under his lip. Another tap. His eyes still searched the blank screen, he was pretending to still be occupied, casually ignoring his son.

_Tap._

James moved the mouse to open and close files aimlessly, still not being constructive.

_Tap._

"What is it Lyle?" He finally said, his tone showing a little bit of agitation. Lyle's fingers clutched the small red ball and slipped it into the pocket of his dark leather Tunnel Snake jacket. He composed his expression wittingly; demonstrating real concern and attempted a skeptical appearance. "Is it possible to get a different job than what the G.O.A.T assigns?" he asked pointing a finger to the air as he pressed his lips together in a flat frown. James turned his chair to face his son and he crossed his hands in his lap.

"Son…The G.O.A.T decides what you're going to be. If you fooled around and decided not to take it seriously, your results won't benefit you." he explained, he still had a disapproving tone. Recently, it seemed like James was avoiding conversation. Lyle was convinced he was hiding something and it had to be something good. His father told him everything, keeping only his mother vague. This was new and Lyle didn't like the way it made him felt. The expression on his face softened and he looked down at his entwined hands.

"I'm sorry dad." Lyle apologized moving his thumb over his knuckle. James' brows arched in surprise as he leaned back in his chair, brushing his chin briefly.

"Sorry? What ever for?" he stated. "Most of the time I don't understand why you do the things you do, how you treat Amata, especially how great she's treated you, but in the end, you're my only son, Lyle and I will always love you. You make your own decisions for yourself and you must face the consequences. You need to know these things. _I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever._" James said turning back to the computer to actually get something done. Lyle understood that James told him he didn't need approval, but perhaps needing approval was a conscience? James' tone is what really got to him; people died, but he just felt like that wasn't the angle his father was aiming at. Little did he know; James' advice would apply to the rest of his life.

"Are you sick or something?" Lyle asked following his _feelings_. There had to be a reason he chose those words. "Or perhaps going away?" it was a silly question to ask because no one left the vault, but something about that advice did not settle right in his stomach.

James turned back and gave out a short laugh, almost mocking Lyle unintentionally. "No No. I'm just saying you're an adult now Lyle and I can't be accountable for you anymore. You're going to get older, get married and probably have kids. You're still interested in Susie Mack, right?" He _had _to mention Susie Mack. Lyle rolled his eyes as discretely as he could by turning his head away from James' gaze.

"She was just a phase." Lyle explained, James successfully changed the subject. "Her brains can fit in a Pork N' Beans can and she isn't any better at cutting the cake than Andy." Lyle was actually being serious, but James let out a short chortle from the commentary. "I wouldn't want to marry her." he said, of course he was going to omit his whole sex life from his father. He didn't really want to marry anyone, everyone just seemed incapable of compatibility with Lyle. James nodded briefly and turned back to his computer, Lyle could fill in the words:

_Aw, what a shame…._

He stood from the desk he was sitting on and left the health office, leaving his father to his work. It wasn't a shame, more options just needed to be presented. Walking down the hall slowly he kept his gaze to the floor, deeply occupied by thought. He walked by windows to every resident cell, ignoring all commotion that took place inside. Even Butch's cell felt rejected from Lyle's neglect. After a few more windows he slowly stopped and looked to his left, turning his whole body to retain full view. Through the clear glass he saw the bare back of a slender dark woman. It was not just any woman, he say flesh and structure of Amata Almodovar. He didn't understand why they put windows in the sleeping cells, because even his own cell had a window, but this was the first time he truly appreciated it. His green eyes from his father trailed down her figure, head to toe, taking in every detail of her curves. He could tell his jaw released and made his mouth gape open.

She had such a beautiful figure, she wasn't too curvy nor did she mimic a ten year old boy. A perfect balance between chest and hips, everything was nice and toned. He felt a tingling in his nether regions and casually looked down. The crotch of his jumpsuit felt significantly tighter, but all was explained when a newly formed bulge emerged from his pants. How embarrassing. Nothing was going to happen, unless he paraded in there, which would also be embarrassing, where's Susie Mack when an erection needs to be resolved? It was a perfect moment to make awkward as Lyle looked back up and stared into Amata's hazel eyes. His face composed a painful expression as he avoided grabbing his crotch. _She was still naked_.

It didn't make any sense, there he was standing outside her window and she didn't make any attempt to quickly clothe herself and shield her body from his eyes.

His pained expression changed to a curious frown, arching one brow he inquired her posture with a mere glance. Her pink lips pulled into a small grin as she walked around her bed closer to the window. She waved flirtatiously and then pressed the tint button on the window. The glass grew darker and the naked woman disappeared. Lyle was utterly disappointed. He continued on his way, walking a little haste, he did not want to run into anyone when he had an erection, especially Susie Mack; he admired making derogatory statements about her, nothing serious. The only person he encounter was Andy hovering outside Lyle's cell, right in front of James' door. Lyle casually clapped a palm over his crotch and slipped by the robot undetected. Once the door slid shut he felt secure in his own cell. "Inaccessible. Open on my command only." Lyle commanded and the door made two flat beeps as it locked.

The sitting area before his cell was a place James visited very little, he decided to give Lyle his own space because he was a man now. As a kid it was the main hype for social events, but now Lyle even ate dinner alone. He was his own independent person, he didn't need daily meals with his old man. Through another door was his room, with a desk, a bed and not much of anything. Before he settled he made it crucial to turn the tint on his window. On his desk was the BB gun his father had given him, his baseball cap and baseball casually thrown next to it. They all seemed untouched for years, but he still kept them on his desk like antiques to display. He sat down in the chair and leaned back, trying to sit as comfortably as possible. His hand moved to his desk and brushed his fingers along the wood stock of his BB gun his father had given him on his tenth birthday. It was Lyle's pride and joy to own that gun.

As for antiques he opened the center drawer to his desk, revealing the copy of Gronak the Barbarian. He reached for it and laced his fingers through the pages, briefly looking through the pictures, but failing to re-read his adventures. He sustained from tending to his sexual urges and soon the blood flowed back through his system. There was a quick noise as a door slid shut, but Lyle thought nothing of it, probably just James going to his cell for bed. Minutes etched by, he could feel fatigue weight down his lids and his eyes slowly fought sleep; his world plummeting into darkness.

_Breakdown…._

_

* * *

_

_Lyle stood at the edge of a cliff looking down into the endless abyss below him. There was no sky, no horizon, no center and no end. It seemed that just the rusted metal existed under his feet and nothing else. He leaned forward to gaze down into the trench of shadow. Despite the intangible darkness he knelt down and lowered his hands past the jagged edge. A smooth black liquid coated the tips of his fingers, it was cool and thick like blood as he lathered it between his thumb and index. It started to wash away as clean water fell from above, he watched the black goo piece off in clouds as it dripped off of his flesh. _

_

* * *

_

A hand shoved his shoulder and Lyle picked his head up from the desk with a distinct red mark coloring his cheek. His green eyes looked up to see the blurred shape of a figure shaking him awake. The smudges of color blazed as a yellow light flashed through his sight and his hearing soon tuned the blaring siren in. "Wha….?" he asked lazily as he lifted a free hand to rubs his eyes into clearer vision. Amata stood there looking frightened.

"Wake up, C'mon, Wake Up!" she urged shaking him. A smug smile spread across his face as he buried the side of his head into crossed arms on the desk.

"How weird, I was just dreaming about you." he claimed giving out a short snort. She shook him more and he moaned. Lyle may have treated Amata badly in front of the kids, trying to act cool for Butch, even though he already thought he was a tough man. It was just a bunch of idiocy, but Lyle indulged himself in a little bit of entertainment. As for her though, Lyle secretly had a sweet spot for her; she was annoyed he didn't show it, but in the end she always knew he had his own way of saying he enjoyed her company.

"This is no time to be a smart ass." she fired back shaking him more. Lyle's eyes opened and he saw the flashing yellow light again. There had to be something wrong. He lifted his head up once again from the desk and looked around past Amata.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked. The loudspeaker announced a Radroach infestation and Lyle was content with his indirect answer. "Ah Christ…you woke me up for some stupid infestation?" he asked lowering his head back into his folded arms. Amata shoved another hand into his shoulder and he shifted weight. "Jesus! What is it woman?" he exclaimed lifting his head up.

"It's your father, he's left the vault and my father's men, they're coming to look for you. Jonas is dead!" She sputtered out all in one sentence. Lyle took a moment to process it all. Out of all facts fed to him only one held significance. "My father…is gone?" he asked reassuring himself.

"Yes! He escaped the vault and now they're coming after you!" She said. That's all he needed to hear as he stood up from his chair, rubbing the blush from his face. Her gaze followed him slightly confused. "Aren't you going to run? You should go after him." she suggested placing one hand on his shoulder. He shook away her touch and grabbed his BB, pocketing the pellets as well. "What are you doing?" she asked turning to face him. Lyle held the gun in his hands and turned to her, he had to look down because she was a lot shorter than him. He'd grown like a bean stalk during the past few years.

He felt a sting pierce his heart and instead of blood it pooled anger inside his chest cavity. James _was_ planning on going somewhere. Lyle felt betrayed, abandoned and furious. All the feelings rushed him at once and he couldn't think clearly as he shook his head.

"We're born in the Vault, we DIE in the vault." He took his baseball and slipped it into his pocket. Amata still wasn't getting the point. "I'm gonna go out there and bring that bastard back." he turned the safety off on the BB gun.

"Don't be stupid Lyle." Amata argued eyeing the gun. That encouraged Lyle even more.

"You want to know why we're held up in this god-forsaken hole underground?" he yelled pointing the gun to the faded yellow wall. "It's because there's _nothing_ out there! We blew it all up, because we're fucking sick!" he yelled waving the barrel towards his temple. Amata took a few uneasy steps towards the door. "I'm gonna go out there and bring him back, set things right." he fumed shoving the gun in a holder on his back. His face scrunched with malice and disappointment; his heart boiling with fury. Amata finally understood, it wasn't about escaping, nor was it about her father sending men to capture him. She could see that it personally burned Lyle; feeling the sense of abandonment and the following resent.

"Hey.." she said walking towards him, putting another comforting hand on his shoulder. Through the years he got significantly taller, but that did not intimidate her. "It wasn't because of you or anything, it may have been something else, I'm sure there's more to this." He was currently looking at the floor and switch his gaze to look at her. His expression showed signs of comfort and he relaxed a bit, but that still didn't diminish the anger that swelled deep within his heart.

"Freeze! Right there!" a voice interrupted and Amata ejected herself from Lyle's side. They both turned to see Officer Kendall aiming a gun at him and firing commands. "Your father betrayed us and the Overseer wants you in custody." he explained still holding his shot.

"You think I don't feel the same?" Lyle asked dropping his own pistol onto the floor. "Take me in Kendall, I have a word or two with Amata's old man." he held his wrists out for cuffs even though there weren't any to be used. Kendall lowered his arm and motioned for Lyle to lead the way; Amata close behind him. Lyle walked into the room with the faded yellow couch before a double level coffee table and a few salmon chairs. Just a few hours ago he sat at the metallic table, supposedly resembling wood, but none of it mattered, it was obsolete. He walked with dignity through the desolate halls and held his chin up high passing the rest of the guards as a prisoner. Most doors were unlocked and allowed them to go directly to the Overseer's office.

Lyle entered, keeping eye contact with his prosecutor, silence was his friend. Amata directly went to defense. "He didn't know anything dad." she claimed in a pleading tone. Lyle didn't need her help, he had things handled.

"You better be turning yourself in. You're in enough trouble as it is, don't make things worse." The Overseer stated directly to Lyle, completely ignoring Amata's pleas. Lyle smugly held out his wrists again to emphasize intangible cuffs binding him.

"I'm all yours." he said. He was not a coward and he was definitely not one to stay on the safe side. Lyle always had decent cards to play, his silver forked tongue allowed him to get away with anything and convince the impossible. There was no doubt he was an intelligent and charismatic individual and it served him well. The plan was not direct rebellion, it was siding with the enemy and then stabbing that alliance in the back. As long as he slid himself out of trouble like butter his goal was achieved, his motives differed but never affected his obstacles. "I have a proposal for you. If you're willing to hear me out." he stated. The Overseer did not object to listening, so he requested an exclusive company.

Kendall took Amata out of the room and The Overseer allowed Lyle to take a seat. "What is it you want to discuss, don't take this time as leisure, you're still a felon in this vault." he strictly spoke.

"I feel the same way you do. Abandoned and Unsafe.." his fingers reached over the desk and he brushed the shield of the desk lamp. "_Betrayed_." his green eyes shifted to look at the commander and his face showed wit. "Allow me to redeem myself, by bringing my father back and you may be the judge of worthy punishment. I'll keep all progress recorded in holotapes and sent to you. _If I feel like betraying you, I give you all means to banish me and kill me if I ever return, that is..if I return alive. I'll bring James back to set an example. To tell everyone else who may have gotten an inkling that it's a good idea to leave that it's really a punishable action, by death or torture." he was now messing with a pencil, holding it between his fingers, keeping a professional stance; even posture counted._

_The Overseer took in the proposition and gave a long nod as he thought. His face deep with contemplation. "Lyle I am amazed that you are so loyal in a time like this, despite your rebellious reputation." he started stroking his chin briefly. "I do like this idea you've proposed, people like James and Jonas should be made example of. You will have to keep up to date daily and our deal will be a solid contract. You fail to report and I'll assume you're dead or your motive has turned for the worst."_


	3. Chapter 2: I Began to Sin

Two hazel hues stared up at the wanderer who would emerge from the Vault. Amata's oval face beaming up at Lyle, despite her endearing glance, he could tell she was saddened by his deal in vengeance. He sold his life to crush every hope of leaving the vault, to diminish every dream. Amata wasn't so sure how she felt about this new man that molded from the ashes. Lyle's hand reached up and gently stroked her cheek bone. "I wish you could come with me." he whispered as the small dark room filled with Vault guards and the Overseer. The two of them stood at the top of the wire mesh stair which led to the base of Vault 101's steel door. Amata nodded slowly, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. "I know." she replied, her expression seemed more complex than 'just knowing'. Lyle began to get an inkling about her _fear_.

It was like his anger forced someone else to take hold of his body. James' own son, so willing to betray his father. Not only betray but publicly punish. She smoothed her ligaments down his knuckles to his wrist and slowly pulled his hand away from her face. Silently, she rejected Lyle's smallest form of affection and the hint was taken. His fingers pulled into a fist as he brought it to his side. Amata was the only woman Lyle **couldn't **have, in the smallest way, it ate at him. Bright lights blared on and a loud noise creaked as the Vault door opened. She was looking straight at him until Lyle's attention shifted to the door. He expected to see light pour in and then the barren wastes appear, but his green eyes just examined a dark cave with the tiniest bit of light streaming through at the end.

"_Don't Leave_." there was a light whisper, Lyle looked back at Amata, she kept her chin down and her lips barely moved, it was like she didn't want anyone to realize she was speaking to him. He looked back and his face scrunched with confusion. She flung him one way and then she would snap him back. Two watery eyes looked up at him, she was working really hard to conceal her sadness, her affection. Much like Lyle they both hated showing their feelings especially near their parents. The Overseer cleared his throat, moving away from the panel he addressed everyone.

"Let it be known, that only two people journeyed past the Vault, one a traitor, the other.." The old man's eyes shifted to Lyle. "The other his _prodigy_." he was preparing a speech to announce to the entire audience. "Only two people will be leaving, no one else will ever leave, it's a terrible world out there and our Vault is safe. We are born in the Vault, We live here and we die." Lyle lowered his head slightly; it was the same quote he used earlier. He enjoyed the comfort of his home, he appreciated the order, if there was no order Lyle didn't know what would happen to him. There was something buried deep inside himself, he could feel it churn and stir, shifting because it had been awakened by a small ignite of anger. If he ever returned, a different man would stand in his place.

Her father went on his speech, but his elegant words softened into mumbles soon lowered into silence. His green eyes looked at Amata's face, deeply concentrating on the pleading look she composed. He didn't bother lifting his hand up to caress her again, it only took once for Lyle to learn. His hand occupied itself by gripping the vinyl strap of his rifle, adjusting it slightly on his shoulder. Amata lifted her hand up to touch his cheek, but he took a step back, the last thing he needed was to wonder the wasteland with her in his head, screwing around with it. There was going to be enough in his mind already: Finding his father in a whole new world. Officer Kendall took the butt of his rifle and shoved Lyle's shoulder.

It was a bit of a rude farewell, but necessary. Lyle's first step extended into a slow walk down the stair towards the light at the edge of the tunnel. His feet crossed over the steel threshold of Vault 101. His green eyes traced the walk up to the few faces witnessing his leave. The Overseer's hand moved to press the lock button and the room filled with flashing lights. His eyes kept still on her as the huge steel door slowly enclosed over her face, the last image of Vault 101 he'd see. The door pushed into its frame, leaving him alone in utter darkness. No turning back now, Lyle was out until he found James. Familiar faces would just be memories, for how long? Days, Months, Years?

Was it possible to send a holotape and ask to come back? He couldn't see an inch past his nose, only the low light beaming through the end. The light didn't reveal the tunnel at all, so he stumbled with his footing, attempting to avoid the ditches and bumps. He trudged closely to the small ring of light , revealing the black toes of his boots. The ground was covered in loose soot and tiny pebbles of rubbles briskly scattered across the dead plain. A few beams of light seeped through the chicken wired frame, between the nailed boards. His pupil constricted his sight as he attempted to look at the outside world, but the sun illuminated the horizon to a sightless feature.

His heart beated slowly, there was a strange world out there, he had to scale it without any experience or knowledge. With one deep breath he pushed open the barred door, the sun flared light into his eyes and he had to shield his brow. "Ahhh!" he screamed from the blazing burn. He had never seen the sun before, no one in the Vault did, it was a new entity he came in contact with. A gentle breeze brushed past his figure, comforting him to lower his arm slowly, naturally letting his eyes adjust. The light died down and exposed the decayed edges of the world. It was everything they said, a dead world with nothing worth living. Was there any life out here at all? He stepped outside the cave into the Wasteland, his first steps into a new adventure.

From what he could see there was a broken-down development down the hill, a few destroyed cars, but no signs of any life. The first place his father may ever go was in plain sight, unless his father _knew_ where too go from the moment he left. Lyle knew the never underestimate dear ol' dad, he was a brilliant man that always functioned on a plan, the only time he'd stray was when an 'outside variable' tampered with the whole works. The houses were still in formal squares, but patches of the siding was missing or chunks of the building broken down into rubble on the dried up lawn. Mail boxes were dented on their poles and bathtubs buried in remains of crushed tile. Everything looked like it used to have personality, nothing generic like the Vault, steel walls and bland colors.

At the end of the row of houses there was a sign labeled "Springvale Elementary School". What is an Elementary School? Lyle tilted his head slightly, curious at the sign and what it said. This building was an Elementary School. His curiosity drew him to the front door and he gently pushed it open. Inside bars met his gaze; cages full of mutilated corpses. The pungent smell filled his lungs and he backed away from the door, holding a hand to his nose. "Jesus." he swore, looking back through the doors. This so called Elementary School was a slaughter house. Why and who would do such a thing, such a disgusting thing?

Lyle took a deep breath and stepped in, James couldn't possibly be here, not in this place. The stench of decay swelled around him as he circled around the cage. There was an abrupt noise from behind one set of double doors. He armed his rifle, pointing it near the direction of the source. "James?" he beckoned lightly, not raising his voice higher than a mono-tone, whoever did this to all these people may still be present. The nozzle of his gun pushed the charred door open, entering a hall lined with lockers. Strangely, the lights were on, the school was powered.

"Hey Vin, looks like we have a bleeder." a cocky female's voice said. Lyle looked over to see a woman, dressed like he had never seen before. She barely wore any clothing over her tiny figure, her ribs were sticking out, probably due to months of hunger. Her facial features were soft, but roughed over by the malice of the Wastes. Most of the women in Vault 101 had beautiful hair, but this woman, her scalp was shaved with two strips of hair pinned up like fans trailing from crown to the back of her neck. Lyle couldn't help but to start staring at the kind of woman before him, but he was too Naive to realize the cruelty of the Wastes as a tire iron bashed into his temple.

"Ha…aren't you the sexy lady.." Lyle sputtered, dropping his rifle onto the floor as the walls and floor spun. His hand lifted to feel the gather of blood upon his temple. "a little too rough." he commented as his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed.

* * *

Droplets of crimson liquid pooled onto the floor, coating Lyle's ligaments as they dangled on the floor. He slowly came to consciousness as the blurred colors and shapes melted together, hardening into images. His brain felt numb, like it was slowly building pressure inside his skull; he was hanging upside down by his ankles. "You know, Vin doesn't let people live. This is a rare occasion and privilege, you should be happy." it was the same woman's voice again, speaking to him. Lyle slowly regained reality and he looked over at the babe. Where was he? Who was Vin? "Where am I?" he asked, showing heavy signs of fatigue.

His vision settled and he eyed the mangled corpses around him, he was dangling in the cage he first observed when coming in. They were going to gut him up like the rest of the poor souls. He snapped his body and he swayed violently. "Don't you dare touch me!" he yelled twisting his body again, feebly trying to escape. The woman began to laugh obnoxiously, giggling at his failure, bobbing like a dead fish in the air. After his body slowed a little, a fist plowed its way into his stomach, causing him to cough up blood, which dripped down his forehead. "I'll kill you." he growled.

The woman ceased hackling like a dog as a man encircled Lyle, this must have been Vin. "All bark Vault Rat." Vin examined the sewn numbers on Lyle's back. His green eyes looked up to take a good observation of Vin. He was a dark man, the crusted dirt on his cheeks made him look like soot. Like the woman he had a strip of hair put into a wide fan, except he had one ribbon down his scalp. Lyle particularly liked it, but it was the least of his concerns. His eyes followed Vin's feet, he could make out the handle of a combat knife in his boot. All he had to do was get that knife and he'd be able to get out of here. His fingers twitched slightly, lathering blood over the rest of his bare flesh.

If James was here, he was probably dead and Lyle's mission was already over. If Lyle died that was the end of his life. Vin stopped to speak to the woman and Lyle snatched the knife from his boot. There was a quick commotion as the two raiders grabbed other weapons. Lyle tightened his abs to crunch upright towards his feet, swinging the knife out towards the woman who charged at him. The blade slit her throat as she tumbled to the ground in a gory mess. His eyes stared at the pool slowly growing from her neck, he had never killed anyone before. He was a bad ass in the Vault, a rebel no doubt, but he never dreamed of killing someone. There was a shroud that passed over him, the world seemed to sit still. His body shocked back to life when Vin beat Lyle like a piñata with a bat.

"Argh!" he retaliated plunging the knife into Vin's skull, watching blood ooze down his shaved scalp. Vin's body loosely dropped to the ground with Lyle's snapping downward after him. His figure swayed, still dangling from his ankles. The reek of two cadavers filled the room, rotting in sulfuric scent, two people he murdered. This was going to be a memorable day. Lyle tensed his abdomen again as he lifted his torso up towards his feet, placing the knife between his lips, his fingers pried at the bundled chain around his legs. "Fuck." he whimpered looking around. There was a lock and he needed a key, Vin probably had the key. His hands waved down across Vin's corpse, searching the pockets and any jewelry.

Lyle could feel his heart pick up pace, his nerves slowly numbing from panic. His fingers shook as they pried a key from Vin's pocket. It felt like slippery cold ice in his hand as he strained to bring it to the lock. Carefully, he gripped the chain and let his legs loose, so they fell, but he didn't crash to the floor.

After getting down he ran for the front door, not even bothering to search around for his weapon, the knife was enough. He came crashing out of the front door into the cold night air of the wasteland, his lungs wheezing from the constriction panic pressed on his chest. When he thought he was safe, a round of guns armed and pointed at him.

* * *

_The first day in the Wasteland I was convinced I was going to die. I thought my mission was over and my vow in vain. I thought the Wasteland was entirely made up of torturous scum, but that was also the day I found out a savage world had the tiniest bit of order. I met the Regulators._


	4. Chapter 3: Failing Megaton

Regulators. The place was suddenly full of them when Lyle came rushing out. People dressed in heavy, brown leather dusters, which closely resembled cowboys. Apparently they were the Wasteland's volunteer police force, no one paid them and basically anyone who wanted to kill the delinquents of the universe could sign up. The tiny three-man squad that located Lyle made sure to take Vin's finger, also taking the index of his lady friend. Something about their ligaments was important, holding enough significance to carry around and rot in the wastes.

Lyle wasn't a criminal, but that didn't excuse him from harsh treatment. They demanded he walk an continue walking with them close behind. He could feel the heat of their barrels pointed at him. Regulators could be just as bad as Raiders, they claimed to be good, but Lyle couldn't trust anyone at this point. The first life outside the Vault he came in contact with attempted to kill him. His heart lightened as his eyes examined a sign labeled 'Megaton', it was pieced together with scrap metal. He didn't bother speaking because it would break the utter silence, even these regulators; who have been traveling together for a long time, kept quiet. Not a single noise other than their footsteps in heavy gravel sounded.

A giant monument of metal entered Lyle's sight, he stopped to question what it was, but there was a harsh blow that plowed onto his shoulder blade. "Keep moving." the Regulator demanded. For heroes of the Wasteland, they seemed rather tough and stagnant. They were guiding him to the huge boulder of _ugly_, eventually he was going to find out what it was eventually. At the entrance of the giant wall a robot stood, Lyle had never seen a model like it before. Once again he wanted to stand and gawk at the contraption, but the fear of stopping prevented him. The regulators crowded around him and the robot, he had no choice but to cease walking.

"You're on your own from here on, next time you won't be so lucky." the male said with a stern tone. He tossed Lyle's gear on the ground at his feet and they wandered off. Next time? As Lyle recalled, he was the one that got himself out of his previous mess, he could obviously take care of himself. He reached down and picked up the gun his old Vault gifted him. His fingers smoothed over the barrel, gently swabbing the dirt away. "Welcome to Megaton." The robot greeted in a computerized voice. A loud creak sounded as metal panels lifted up away from the door to 'Megaton'. Lyle walked past the protectron to the door, pushing it open to enter Megaton.

It was a city inside and it was amazing. Lyle could feel his jaw drop slightly as his green eyes swayed over the buildings made of random rubble screwed together. He shouldered his rifle and walked to the top of the wood stair implanted in the dirt hill. "You won't be causing any trouble around here?" A voice interrupted his awe. Lyle looked over at a dark man who resembled a cowboy. "Is that how you treat all strangers? Pardner?" Lyle said in a spiteful tone, his rebellious behavior that was so infamous around Vault 101 started leaking through. The man's dark lips stretched into a thin frown. "I've got my eye on you, so don't think about doing anything funny." he fairly warned, then continued with his rounds in Megaton.

Everyone in the new world just seemed so untrusting. Was the world literally that chaotic, not even neighbors could trust each other? He went down the stair to the medical tent, climbing the ramp above past the caterside, eventually ending up at Moriarty's. It smelt like smoke and booze inside, a tiny underlying scent of decay. "Stupid Machine!" a raspy voice cursed as a smash hit on the radio, which was only picking up static and the occasional word from Three Dog. Lyle looked toward the commotion and witness the presence of the oddest creature he had ever seen in his entire life. It was a man, at least in the shape of a man, his skin rotting and peeling off, his lineaments melted from his face, looking like a skeleton.

Strangely, Lyle did not find himself disgusted but enthralled with the appearance of this man. He noticed the Vault rat was staring and asked rudely. "What are you gawking at smootheskin?" he grumbled. At first Lyle didn't realize he was referring to him as a _smootheskin_. "Uh.." there was nothing he could say without seeming completely rude, "What are you?' Lyle asked sitting down on the nearest stool. "You've never seen a Ghoul before kid?" he asked, he had a subtle tone of astonishment. Lyle shook his head slowly. "I'm Gob and Ghouls are people that are irradiated, we're not **zombies**." he emphasized the word zombies.

Lyle frowned slightly, he didn't think any of that, he was just curious that was all. The way Gob retaliated, it showed strong signs that Ghouls didn't have it so easy in the Wastelands. He could feel that anger swell deep inside himself, that anger of rejection and abandonment. The same look projected from Gob's dark eyes, the same fury burned inside, underneath all the flesh and curtains their soul draped. It was a fury that germinated, but easily found itself in other places. "Gob, I was wondering have you seen my father? He's a man with the same face, but a bit older." Lyle held his palm up to his jaw, he was told many times he was the spitting image of his old man. The only thing he had of his mother's was determination and a shade of auburn hair.

Gob briefly looked at Lyle and shook his head. "Sorry Kid, I haven't seen anyone." his brittle fingers lifted a glass and placed it on the counter before his customer. "Here, it's on the house." he stated pouring some liquor into the glass. Lyle took the glass and swirled the liquid around before taking a large gulp. Strong stuff, he had never tasted anything so sour before in his life, it wasn't even sour, it burned. He couldn't explain the sensation tearing through his tongue, as though acidic flavor ate through the walls of his mouth to his brain. "So, Irradiation slowly corrodes the flesh?" he asked, setting down the empty glass, he felt like his head was going to melt. Gob glared at him "We're **not **zombies." he repeated, his voice was particularly resentful.

Lyle glared back. "I didn't say you were a zombie, did I?" he asked. Gob lifted a brow, Lyle had a spit-fire attitude and he didn't take shit from anyone, if it weren't for the smootheskin, they'd be two peas in a pod. A young woman strolled by, she was beautiful, short reddish hair swept on her face. "Gob, stop fucking with that Radio, you won't get shit out of it." she encouraged. Lyle looked over his shoulder to survey the woman, who was obviously dressed to seduce any man. She continued on her way into the back room. "What's her story?" Lyle asking nodding his head after her. Gob turned to glance again after Nova. "Oh, that's Nova, keep you some good company for a bunch of caps. You can ask her about your dad kid, but I doubt anyone around here knows anything." he informed.

Everything just seemed to be a dead end for Lyle, James either died somewhere in a ditch or didn't stop anywhere for aid. That wasn't like James at all, Lyle knew very well that James was no idiot, neither was his son. He would make a carefully thought out plan, every detail would be anticipated. Perhaps he gave James _too_ much credit, just because he was a doctor, didn't mean he was brilliant. "I'll be back Gob." Lyle said, following Nova to the back room. "Have you seen my father, by any chance?" he asked the woman, who was leaning against the wall provocatively. "Like-"

"Like you, but older." she cut him off, but finished his sentence. "Maybe, perhaps a little payment would help." she smirked, obviously she'd ask for money. It was about time Lyle used his sex appeal for survival. He leaned in close to the woman on the wall, planting an arm above her head, spreading his palm on the surface. "I can give you something better than money." he cooed, stroking an index down her slender shoulder. Nova probably got tons of men hitting on her all the time. Her face composed of a disappointed expression, he was right, she had been hit on all the time. "What makes you think you're better than money?" she inquired.

"Oh, I'm better than money, just give me five minutes." he fired back. Sex was better than money at this point, because Lyle didn't understand the concept, what was money? Either way he didn't have any. He was still in his vault suit, so he stuck out like a sore thumb. No one really called him out on it though. Nova quirked a brow. "Oh feisty, watch it bad boy. Alright here's the password for Moriarty's terminal, he keeps records of everyone that passes through and all of his business affairs. While he's still outside on the ridge, take a look." she spoke softly, handing over a piece of paper. Lyle enclosed his fingers over the small scrap, pushing his other arm away from the wall. "I could spare five minutes later tonight." she said, winking at him.

A smile spread across Lyle's thin chin as he walked back to the bar, slipping the paper into his pocket. Gob strolled across the counter, serving people their drinks. "Why are you here Gob?" Lyle asked, he could tell Gob was the adventurous type. Gob took out a rag and started to wash down the counter. "I have a debt to pay Moriarty, but it's hard to pay the bastard when he charges rent and board." he mumbled. "So what, you're stuck here, like a slave until you pay what's owed?" Lyle inquired. Gob frowned slightly, he _was_ a slave. Lyle got the message.

It was late at night, Lyle had spent all of his evening hours with Gob. The ghoul told him everything he knew about the Wasteland. The most intriguing part about their conversation was the existence of Underworld, it was a ghoul city that Gob came from. Lyle was to pass a message onto Carol, if he ever made it that far in the Wasteland. Bottle caps were the currency, easy to earn, lucky to find and unfortunate to lack. Gob was a kind-hearted friend, he gifted Lyle with one hundred caps from his personal savings and gave him a Merc Grunt outfit, so predators didn't seek him out for being from a Vault; Lyle did a little bit of sharing as well. He omitted some fine details.

Lyle got up and rounded the bar, back towards Nova's room. Her door was open and he could even see her curled up on her bed, she looked so peaceful, no one would have ever guessed she was a prostitute. He could be just like every other animal and barge on in there, but he lowered his fist from the door frame, walking away. Gob got Lyle a room, he was working on a limb to make his new friend comfortable. Lyle swore he wouldn't say anything of it, to avoid issues with Moriarty. The room was big enough for a bed and one cabinet, with all the caps they were asking for, the least they could do was spruce up the place a little, apparently the Craterside Supply had very good décor. He entered the tiny space and plopped on the mattress, it was as hard as a rock compared to the beds in the Vault, there was a lot he'd have to end up sacrificing. The question was, is it really worth it all?

He turned on his side and frowned, he was such a tough ass in the Vault, but out in the rough world, he was like soft skin against sandpaper. It bothered him and made the fury swell inside him even more. His eyes closed as he drifted into slumber.

* * *

Lyle woke up abruptly, turning on his side, looking around frantically, assuring himself that leaving the vault wasn't a dream. His green eyes moved fro the grungy room to his mid-riff. Beyond his waist-line his loose cargo paints lifted awkwardly into the air. It was the morning. To make the matter worse, Nova was standing in his doorway, her arms crossed over her frail chest. Her thin bony face showed a smug expression, but most of all it longed for attention. "Can I help you?" Lyle asked, rubbing the tire out of his eyes.

She shook her head; "No, but I could help you." she fired back seductively. Lyle didn't catch on too quickly, he had just woken up and his brain wasn't functioning. She glided into the space, closing the door behind her as she straddled his waist. He could sense the energy radiating off her, she was in the mood for some Lyle. Nova swayed her body on his waist, smoothing her hands over her chest, slowly pulling her clothes off. Lyle already had an erection, all he could do was feel it tighten underneath his pants. He could feel his desire intensify as he placed his hands on her hips, sliding them over her smooth skin. Nova moved to satisfy him as they connected in luxurious pleasure.

He slipped off the bed, leaving Moriarty's whore in slumber, bare breasted in the daylight. The door closed silently behind him as he crept to the bar, no one was up yet, everything was dead. Even Gob was no where to be found. This was the perfect opportunity to take a peek at the terminal that held Moriarty's secrets, including a lead on his father's location. He sat down before the computer and typed in the password Nova gifted him. The screen brought up files with very distinct labels, most of them were people. His index clicked the mouse as he opened the file of random visits. He pulled the most recent date up and read a summary of a man named James. Moriarty expressed his disliking towards the man who was a calm 'know-it-all', but that was James.

His mind was intent on finding his father, just as his eyes started to examine the words of his destination, a cold metal object pressed to the back of his head. "Freeze and stand up slowly you bastard." Moriarty's accent demanded. Lyle slowly put his hands in the air, standing from the chair and stepped away from the terminal. "What do ya think you're doing?" he asked pressing the nozzle of his gun against Lyle's skull. Lyle's fingers twitched slightly as he bit his lower lip. There was going to be a way out of this, but he was obviously going to be a little shit.

"I didn't want to pay for the info I wanted, so I decided to help myself." he said in a cocky tone, smirking slightly even though Moriarty couldn't witness his smug little grin. "I see you helped yourself to my whore as well." Moriarty complained, his voice was angry. Lyle couldn't help it if Nova offered herself for free, in fact that was the best part about it. The situation with Nova was clear at this point and it disturbed Moriarty, he had a desire for the bitch, that's why he made it prudent to identify her as **his**.

A click sounded from behind Lyle's ear as the pistol was armed, punching the bullet into the barrel. One more second, a pull of the trigger and Lyle would be dead. He pivoted on his heel and slammed the fist of his palm into Mortiarty's elbow, making it buckle and disarmed the elderly man. Before he could grab the pistol, Lyle kicked it and put him in a head lock. Moriarty breathed harshly as he gripped Lyle's arm. "You've got guts kid." he muttered clenching his teeth together.

"Where did my father go?" Lyle asked completely ignoring Moriarty's threats. "WHERE!" he asked tightening his arm around his neck. Moriarty grunted from the pain and he submitted. "James mentioned something about going to Galaxy News Radio." he breathed some more and attempted to get out of the choke hold, but Lyle kept up. "Why was he going there?" he yanked back so the man was even more uncomfortable.

"I don't know! He just mentioned it once, that's all!" Moriarty screamed for mercy. Lyle was content and he let go of the man. It was all too trusting because Moriarty picked up his weapon, pointing it at Lyle. "No one fucks with me kid, NO ONE in the god damned Wasteland." he growled. He got his answers, Moriarty's damaged ego was just a hassle. Lyle slipped his hand into his pocket, quietly pulling out a knife, the knife that became a killing weapon for the boy. There was no more room for the bullshit, he was tired of everyone, it's either be cooperative or you're dead. Lyle took one step forward, swiping his knife across Moriarty's chest, slicing open his shirt and chest cavity.

The knife dropped to the ground along with a pool of blood. Another person on his roster of death, every person that he killed, he could feel it slowly feeding the fury built up inside of him. What kind of person was he becoming? Did it even matter? Moriarty's body fell to the floor, leaving the saloon in ruin. Galaxy News Radio, that's where he had to be, but he couldn't stay here anymore, he had just killed Moriarty. Megaton was not a safe place for him anymore. He walked out of the back, Gob was now at the counter, wiping away the dirt. "Gob." Lyle called as he walked to the edge.

The ghoul looked up with his beady black eyes. "Ah Lyle, nice to see a friendly face." he commented with a disfigured grin.

"Look Gob, I need to know where the nearest town is, somewhere I can stay. I can't be here anymore." his eyes darted to the closed back door where Moriarty's body lay. "I just murdered Moriarty and Simms is probably going to come for me." he confessed. "I need to get to Galaxy News Radio too, what's the nearest transport route?" he asked, thinking that there was an easy way to travel in the Wasteland.

Gob looked at Lyle, an expression he couldn't analyze composed on his face. It was like all of his troubles washed away within an instant. "Closest town in Tenpenny Tower, it's full of rich bigots though. It's down southwest from here, farther away from Galaxy News. As for a route? Your feet are your best bet Lyle, it's a tough world out there. Get an Autograph from Three Dog for me, if you ever think about coming back." He chuckled, he was taking the news of Moriarty's death quite well. Lyle took all the caps Gob had given them and set them down on the counter.

"Thanks Gob, you've been a good friend. You'll need these more than me, I don't plan on spending much." Lyle stated walking out of the saloon, making his way as quickly as possible.

"_I searched for James at the closest town, full of life. No one knew where he was, except Moriarty, whom I had to force answers out of. Moriarty is dead due to my digression. Gob, the Ghoul has been a valuable asset to my mission, a friend to return to when I need help."_

_

* * *

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**Hey guys! This is the author here, I've noticed that I've gotten a lot of subscriptions, which is a good thing, sometimes it takes me some time to post these chapters, because I've been playing Vegas XD I'm glad you enjoy Lyle and his adventures! I'd like to maintain your satisfaction, so please review or pm me, keep reading! Thanks **


	5. Chapter 4: You Can't Play God When I Am

He began to walk and he didn't know how long he was traveling for. The sun was getting hotter, making him feel like he was going to melt away. His green eyes examined the tower above the horizon, but it was still so far away. The only thing he had to drink recently was alcohol, he could feel the sting of dehydration in his mouth as he shuffled his feet along the dirt ground. He fell to his knees as he looked over his shoulder, Megaton was pretty far too, he was stuck. The world began to blur and defy gravity as his vision distorted. His green eyes rolled back into his head and he limply fell to the ground.

**Lyle placed a small contraption on James' desk. "Dad, look at what I made." he said, twisting a small knob. The object on wheels flew off the desk till it hit the wall on the opposite wall. James looked amazed, for one of the very few times in his life. "What is that Lyle?" he asked as the thirteen-year old walked over to pick it up. "I built a moving object that runs on ink from pens." Lyle commented opening a small casket to reveal a tube of dark blue liquid. James lifted his brows "That's quite amazing Lyle." his son was just as smart as he was, maybe even smarter. **

His fingers twitched as a wet tongue lathered his flesh. Lyle's lid opened to reveal his green hues. The strangest creature stuck it's long slimy tongue out and licked Lyle's hand again. It was a round, pink leathery creature with wire whiskers and beady black eyes. He could scream, but he was just lying in fear and exhaustion. The creature let out a low raspy mumble, sounding like its vocal chords were torn out. It looked at Lyle straight in the eye, both of them stared, with any animal it was the worst idea to stare at the beast in the eyes. He lifted his hand slightly and gently stroked his fingers against the beast's tough skin.

Out of all things in the Wasteland some random animal was kindest to him, when vulnerable. He sat up and briefly looked around, the sun was pretty low in the sky now, the sun wasn't so hot anymore. "I don't remember that being there." he stated looking at a mound of metal rusting from years of stagnation. His brows furrowed as he looked at it with more attention. "What is that?" he asked himself, his hand was still gently placed on the crown of the small animal. He was examining an old car from before the bombs and he was quite fascinated with it. "What are you?" he inquired as he rubbed the skull of the critter, it made another strange noise. It looked like some sort of hairless rodent, it had a certain adorable charm to it.

He stood up without any trouble from the rodent and walked toward the automobile. Travel would be a lot easier if there was something that could cover a lot more distance. People wouldn't pass out from dehydration and they'd avoid half the things that were lingering out there, but the issue was road. Something with wheels would need a smooth surface to travel on. The idea was amazing, but the dream was unattainable. Tenpenny Tower wasn't so far away.

Lyle turned and started walking for the tower peaking the horizon. He paused and looked behind him, the small rodent-like creature was _following_ him. "What?" he asked facing the animal. The creature looked up at him with two beady eyes, making a low raspy whimper. Lyle took a step backwards towards his desired destination and the rodent followed. "You better keep up your end of the bargain buddy. I can't watch my back and watch yours." he said turning around. He felt slightly comforted that he had company, even if it was just a mutated rodent.

"You're not going to be much of a conversationalist." he commented, briefly looking over his shoulder, the rodent still followed. "Huh buddy?" he asked stopping. The rodent sniffed the air and garbled. "You like that? Buddy?" Lyle inquired, placing his hands on his knees to be even with the creature. He needed to name it something, otherwise it'd be very impersonal, but then again he wasn't so sure how long Buddy would stick around for. He was at Tenpenny Tower in no time now, it seemed like walking with the rodent made time pass faster. The stars glittered at twilight, sprinkling the dark sky with bright light.

He could hear the low mumbles of people speaking. Lyle looked as far as he could, seeing a shadow by the wall, which shielded the tower from the rest of the world. The decayed voice and patterns of maliciousness reminded Lyle of someone he knew. The speaker in the wall accused the an of being a zombie and how Mr. Tenpenny was exclusive. _A Zombie?_ Lyle had heard that insult before, specifically towards ghouls. "Come on Buddy." he beckoned to the rodent, running for the gate.

It was a ghoul at the entrance, demanding way into the tower, but after a few more minutes of insults the Ghoul gave up and walked into the distance, letting the shadow swallow up his figure. Lyle attempted to talk to him, but the ghoul shoved past without a word. He pressed the black button on the intercom and a rude voice responded. _"Look I told you, NO ZOMBIES_."

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, you insensitive bastard." Lyle commented back into the com. _"Oh I'm sorry I just thought you were that zombie, Come on in."_ there was a loud beep and the gates started to roll open. "Come on Buddy." Lyle said to his pet and walked through the gates. The courtyard was filled with guards, more importantly, guard with guns. This place seemed like a bunker, more protection than Megaton, also more exclusive. He turned around and picked up the small animal, it was about the size of a football, must have been a child, or something. No one was going to touch his pet, _no one. _It burbled in his arms, hissing at the occasional soldier Lyle strolled by.

Chief Gustavo stopped him on the outer rim of stairs. "You need to pay the toll." he said, lifting his palm out to Lyle. "And the pet ca-" Lyle shoved Gustavo's hand away "Don't fucking tell me what I can't do." he muttered, his green eyes glared at the man and something about his stare showed little mercy. Chief Gustavo lifted both arms in the air, giving in to Lyle's demands. "Relax Gustavo, this man is with me." a suited man coaxed. Who was this tool? Lyle surveyed the man from head to toe, he was well dressed for someone coming out of the shithole universe.

Gustavo backed off and walked to the intercom at the gate. "Hello, I'm Mr. Burke. I happened to notice that you were at Moriarty's place in Megaton. I also happen to know of your unfortunate mishaps too." he informed, Lyle could tell this man hid a silver forked tongue behind his rotten teeth. Was there hygiene out here? With one hand he took Mr. Burke's collar, dragging him to the wall and holding him there. "What do you want?" he asked pushing against Burke's chest cavity. He wanted to evoke Lyle, well he got the malice he was looking for. Burke chuckled pleasantly "A little devil aren't you?" he commented as Lyle hit his elbow into his rib cage. The suited man coughed in discomfort "Alright!" he pleaded, but Lyle didn't release his grip.

"I have a business offer for you, you seem like the kind of man who'd be able to do the job." Burke requested and Lyle let go of his suit. "What kind of business?" he was out here for maybe two days and he already had an observable reputation. "Please, come with me." Burke led into the main foyer of Tenpenny Tower. The room was elegant, with a lot of gold, the walls were painted a faded yellow and the lights spread glittering specs of vibrant crystal. It was like a palace that was preserved, yet it preserved the worst inhabitants on the planet.

Most of the residents gawked at the disgusting little creature he had cradled in his arms, some even went so far to give him _the _look; where they inspect him like some sort of insect, curious enough to look, but definitely no touching. It didn't last for long because Burke took him to an elevator, isolated from the rest of the community, which was a very good thing. Lyle was already sick of these people and their pompous attitude. It was a very awkward, but thankfully short trip to the top of the tower. "Allister Tenpenny, preserved this place." Burke started, just to give Lyle a little intro. "He's kept all the families in this place safe. He, of course, needs to worry about their satisfaction and that is just what we're going to do."

He tried to keep up with this tool, but he just seemed to only speak in riddles and slithery rhymes, Lyle already decided that he didn't like it. Burke passed through a guard to get into the main suite, which was obviously Allister's. They proceeded outside, where an elderly man was firing a sniper off into the Wasteland. First thought that came to Lyle's mind; _What the fuck is that crazy old geezer doing?_ Understanding the Wasteland was an adventure, understanding the people of the Wasteland, a complete mystery. How could the man see anything out there? It was so dark out that he'd might as well shoot at his foot to get anything exciting.

Burke waited for the man to be done, so Lyle did too, might as well follow Burke's lead. Allister paused, lowering his rifle and looking over to the men. "Ah Hello." he greeted reaching for a small lantern by his chair, his fingers turned the knob and the light lifted a few watts. "Mr. Burke told me there was a man in Megaton, who could do my desired job." Allister said in a snotty tone as he sat comfortably in his big velvet chair. "What is this job?" Lyle asked. Allister laughed mockingly, like Lyle was some sort of confused child, he really started to loath these people. He lifted a hand towards Lyle, a small gesture to request his title. "Lyle." he responded.

"Lyle, you've been to Megaton, see how it's a huge heaping pile of rusted metal? People here want to look out the window and see the lovely view of the Wasteland, but it's ruined by that mound of garbage in the distance." he muttered in spite. "How do you suppose you're going to fix that problem?" Lyle asked innocently, but he already knew where this deal was going, it had to involve a lot of killing. Burke opened a silver breifcase on the table and revealed a mechanism. "We need some one to put a Fusion Pulse Charge on the active Atom Bomb in Megaton, use the detonator and Megaton is history." Burke explained with a coy smile.

There was an active atom bomb in Megaton? Lyle's brows furrowed in confusion. He was there for a short time and most of it was spent in Moriarty's, it was possible to miss an atom bomb, but then again Lyle didn't know what they looked like. "So…you want me to basically bomb Megaton off the face of the planet?" he asked. Both of the men nodded with maniacal grins, they illuminated the evil within them. Allister sheltered people like him from the dangers of the world, all of these bigots were germinating in this place, growing like a disease. Kind-hearted people like Gob and Nova lived in Megaton. Why would Lyle ever choose prissy penny over Megaton?

His free hand lowered to his side as he fingers gripped the handle of his pistol. "Just blow it up? And then what? How many more places and people would you want off this planet before it's good enough for you?" he asked making it as discrete as possible that he was arming himself. "The ghouls were always an issue too, especially Roy Phillips in the nearby station." Allister commented. Even after Lyle tested them, they still continued with their hatred. The world was too damaged to hate, they should be working together to rebuild society.

His father always referred to ancient scientists when trying to explain things to Lyle, the most brilliant men on the planet, apparently were a bunch of loony scientists. Newton's law; with every action, there is an equal reaction. Tenpenny wanted to bomb Megaton. Lyle lifted the pistol out of the holster, without another thought his finger squeezed the trigger and it blasted a bullet straight through Allister's forehead. He pivoted on his heel to point his gun at Burke, who fumbled his pistol and it fell to the ground. For such a cunning man, he was a spineless bastard.

"Life is too short to fight, so get over it." Lyle commented as his finger pulled the trigger again and a bullet blasted through Burke's neck. Two more bodies added to Lyle's growing list. He got down to search the bodies, taking the caps and the weaponry. Now he started to understand why killing people in the Wasteland was beneficial. He set Buddy down as he reloaded Allister's rifle. "Look Buddy, I need you to stay safe, alright?" Lyle spoke to the creature quietly. "It's going to be very dangerous next few minutes and I need you to stay safe, you hide until I call you." He wasn't even sure if Buddy understood what he was saying, but he put belief into it. Lyle got up and walked back into the tower, making his way through the small atrium and shooting the guard outside.

He didn't have a lot of time to search, but he swiped caps and weaponry again. Semi-automatic machine gun, now that was the kind of weapon he needed. A resident screamed in a loud shrill, but he had no issue shooting after her. Every live person he laid eyes on fell victim to his bullets. He made it to the elevator, pressing the button harshly, he couldn't fight the adrenalin rush surging through his body. A part of him wanted to stop, wanted to go back to the Vault and forget it all like some bad nightmare, but another part of him wanted it to happen, he felt like these people needed to be shown proper justice for their years of bigotry. The sudden rush of power was thrilling, the will to dominate addictive.

The elevator doors slid open and he slipped in, pressing the button for the main floor. Once the doors slid open Lyle fired at the crowd of people in the main foyer, including Chief Gustavo. A few residents he missed scattered to all corners of the building. He wasn't in the mood to go chase them down, just as long as a majority of the people were dead. The front doors opened and a few guards unwittingly rushed in, Lyle was so delighted to take them out. Silence fell upon the tower as all their infantry was killed and the rest hid in squabbling fear.

He set his fingers to his lips and whistled, a few moments later the shuffling of a rodent filled the empty foyer as Buddy trotted down the stairs. "Come on Buddy." Lyle said picking up the rodent. "Let this be a lesson!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the creases in the walls. "Hatred **NEVER** results kindly." without another word he walked out of Tenpenny Tower with his head held high. He broke the barrier of fearlessness and he now understood what he had to do. That bomb in Megaton needed to be disabled, to prevent future incidents. People needed to be taught a lesson in the Wasteland, James one of the people on Lyle's list.

* * *

**I got this crazy idea and I wanted to know what you guys think about it? I like to get my readers involved, because well, it's just fun. Do you guys think it's a cool idea to get Ocs from you? It's almost making a fan fiction of a fan fiction XD I've gotten a lot of pms about how cool Lyle is and I thought it'd be sweet if I ran a contest or something to have him meet your Ocs, a little bit of paradise for those fanfictioners out there. Of course this is an idea, not the actual contest. To avoid spoilers, I'll say trust me, there will be plenty of places and times I'll need ocs, I can come up with them, granted, but I just thought it'd be fun. Idk, tell me what ya think. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 5: Screaming For The Law

_It's been nearly three days since I have left Vault 101. The world out here is tragic, rotting in it's own demise. All the people wither from their own decimation. The currency is in the form of bottle caps. As for leads on James, it's said he's heading towards Galaxy News Radio, which is in the D.C. area. Gob has said that it is heavily infested with super mutants, which I can easily die. I'm trying to invent a way to get there and back without loosing a lot of time. Gob mentioned Smith Casey's Garage by Girdershade, it's close to life but a perfect shop to whip something. Of course it's in the opposite direction. _

The two metal doors of Megaton opened and Lyle returned, nearly a day and a half later since he's left. Sheriff Simms was there to greet him again, but it wasn't so pleasant this time. "I know Moriarty was a scumbag, but it takes real guts to slaughter him in his own place." the sheriff was reaching for his pistol when Lyle lifted a hand for mercy. He had come to make amends with Megaton, not start a war. Moriarty _deserved_ to die, just like those prissy fucks in Tenpenny, they all _deserved_ to die.

What kind of man did Lyle think he was; judging who deserves to live and die, same as the next man. It was too late to rethink his action or take it back, death was permanent. "I want to disable that bomb of yours." he stated loudly, his eyes trailing down the dirt path to the puddle with the atom bomb. Simms dark eyes widened as his lips parted from shocked. "You know how to take that thing out? You'd do that?" he questioned. A simply nod came from Lyle as a smile spread across his thin chin. He lowered his hand slowly as he walked past Simms towards the bomb. There was more to this bargain than Simms assumed, Lyle wanted a specific piece from the atom bomb, the mechanism that enabled the explosion, you have that piece, you could build your own bombs.

He set Buddy down on the sand before stepping into the knee deep water surrounding the weapon. There was some old loon preaching about the power of the atom bomb, even the religious cults were crazy in the Wastes. His fingers pried open a small panel on the side, exposing a lot of wires and screens. It was a complicated system by the looks of it, but Lyle knew what he was doing. The red wire was the connection, which told the mechanism to blow. His hands wriggled between the wires and he carefully removed the mechanism he desired to obtain. The bomb was still active, but even if someone were to flip the switch it wouldn't be able to go off. He thinned his green eyes as his ligaments traveled along the red wire, yanking it out of the port near the east junction.

That was all that needed to be done, the bomb was disabled. His fingers curled around the enabler, hiding it in his palm so no one noticed he retrieved the piece. He pocketed it when he tread out of the puddle, Buddy returned to his side. "Well I'll be damned." Simms said looking at the atom bomb. Lyle threw the red wire down, passing Simms. "You want a home in Megaton?" he asked, Lyle still kept walking. "I don't plan on staying." he mumbled, his green eyes set on the door of the city. As Simms reached his back Lyle pulled out the tiny mechanism for the atom bomb. The Vault created a safe place for all people and compared to the rest of the world, it was a piece of paradise.

It was a place that will forever reject Lyle, even after three days he felt the sin stain his soul. The Vault wasn't a place for him anymore. His mind drew images of disappointed faces fro the people he knew, the worst was beaming fear on Amata's face. He pushed through the gates and walked out into the dead world. The horizon blew particles of dust into the wind and the stars seemed to fade as he felt his heart die. It was only three days and he killed numerous people, more than he'd ever expect in his entire life-time. Such damnation, all to find James and take revenge for what he left Lyle; nothing. He felt such hatred burn within him that it grabbed his chest, attempting to cave within itself.

"AHHH!" he yelled, throwing the mechanism into the dark depths of the Wasteland. He didn't even really understand why he took it, what compelled him to desire a part so crucial to the construction of a bomb. "THIS IS WHAT YOU LEFT ME!" Lyle screamed into the shadow, he lifted his hands, which were dried in blood from his homicides. "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED!" he roared infuriated. He expected James to hear him, wherever that man was, Lyle wanted him to hurt equally. James probably didn't become some sort of monster out here, he was _built_ that way. Lyle dropped to his knees, unshouldering the weapons he picked up from Tenpenny. They clattered in a pile to the ground. His fingers gently tapped the loose dust on the Earth, how decayed and dried out it was, _everything_ was dead.

Buddy gently stroked Lyle's dangling hand with his bare back. He had to chuckle as he moved his ligaments to pet the small thing. In all honesty, he didn't know what to do now; he wanted to just go home, deal with whatever the overseer desired to do to him. Wet tears began to roll down his cheeks as he brought his pip-boy to his face, turning on the record for his audio-diary:

_I've never missed myself more in my life…_

_My name is Lyle. I was born in Vault 101, my mother, Catherine died during child birth and my father, James abandoned me at nineteen. I never felt so alone in my entire life and I let anger grow within me. I acted rashly, surging for revenge, only to punish myself in the Wasteland. I have already killed people out of spite on my journey._

His lips parted as he took a deep breath, straining to keep the grief from his recording. Buddy felt his fingers gently soothe over his back. The more he sat there thinking about it, the more he began to accept the violence. He could feel his heart callus over. His words spoke of his life, one James helped mold, the more he heard himself speak, the more his anger boiled.

_But I will find him. No matter what it takes and I will make him pay for what he's done. Overseer Almodovar, I promise you, scrutiny will never cease until he is back into the hands of Vault 101's justice._

He released the record button and sent his last few audios to the vault, hopefully he'll get feed back from the Overseer, make him feel less isolated in the world. Smith Casey's Garage was far away, but he was going to make it there, possibly use it as a home. Far and isolated, but within distance to a trading post, it was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to stay far away from society, somewhere he could work and make life a little better for him in the Wasteland.

Lyle stood and began walking to the west, taking long strides, as though it would make his journey shorter, but he was stopped by an old man sitting beside a rock. "Please, Please sir, do you have any water? I've been here for days and I'll die without water." he groaned, his voice cracked from dehydration. His blue eyes pleaded Lyle with innocent misfortune. Lyle reached his side and gripped the handle of his pistol, this man didn't deserve to die, but he was dying a slow and painful death. "I'm sorry." he apologized. "but I do not have any water." he finished, lifting the pistol and shooting the poor man straight in the head.

His green eyes watched the body fall limply onto the rock. Sometimes it's the best to ease another's pain, whether it was in the form they desired or not. He didn't feel any guilt, he almost found it pleasing, it helped deter his anger.

* * *

**Four Days Later….**

Lyle's feet dragged along the dirt, kicking up particles into the air. He started to condition himself to withstand the heat more, but he still wasn't a survivor. His chin tilted back and his green eyes scanned the sky. The clouds began to blur at the corners and wave past him with distorted pace. Lyle was not going to give in again as he took a deep breath, taking another step, fighting his own deprivation of resources. His legs felt like tree trunks, unable to move as he trudged another step.

His lungs took in another gasp of air, he could feel his body fighting against him, but his mind struggled to keep him awake. Why didn't he think to get food and water back at Megaton. He was so blinded by his anger he forgot what was truly important. A pressure seized his chest and he had to stop, bringing a fist to his heart. Buddy made a loud rasping noise as he circled around his master. Lyle's knee caps gave a sharp pain as he slammed onto them. His mouth gaping open for air as he looked back up again. The sun blazed light into his green eyes, illuminating the earth filled pools of color. He could feel his mind numbing away as his thoughts dissipated.

Lyle was only human, not just that, he was from a Vault. He never experienced hardship in his life, but he could feel it slowly take hold of his body as his vision fell into darkness. This time there was no dream, he could hear all the rustling of loose soot in the wind around him. He could still feel the hot rays of the sun slowly burn his cheeks. The soft whimpers of Buddy as he curled up next to Lyle's neck. Lyle was in a shell, inside himself, but he couldn't move. All he had were his senses and his thoughts.

There was not a second that passed without Lyle doubting his decision. He knew that if anyone ever asked him, he'd tell them, he regretted his choice every moment after he had made it. His thoughts drifted into memory; How Amata would brush her jet black hair behind her ear, the way her tender lips creased into a perfect smile, a skin texture softer than a rose petal. He could still remember the way his nerves tingled every time she touched him. The fiery sensations that sent shivers down his spine. He'd trade everyday just to tell her that _he loved her_.

That was the big secret, Lyle loved her. He was a thick-skulled man who never had the guts to tell her and had too much pride to show it. Now it was his biggest regret, he may never see her again. This whole thing was a fool's errand, **a fool's errand**. James wasn't worth Lyle's life, all the hatred in the world didn't justify that. His hearing picked up footsteps and voices as people approached his body. Lyle was paralyzed, he couldn't move, he'd only have to listen to his fate, perhaps feel the pain of his consequences as well. There were several of them as they gathered around his body, he felt the numbing sensation of hands prying through his clothing. Unfortunately, he had very little on him to begin with.

"He's still alive." one of them gasped, shaking Lyle's body lightly. "Aye, he is?" another voice agreed as Lyle's form shook once more from their efforts. "Quite a fine catch, don't you think?" a different stranger observed. "Bring a lot of caps in, maybe if Madame wants him." a male stated, he was probably the leader of their little party. Lyle's neck tingled as it came in contact with a large metal collar when these men placed it around his neck. He could feel its weight dominate his strength. His dry lips parted as they picked up his body.

"_Stay hidden, stay safe until I call you."_

_

* * *

_

**Three Days Later….**

Lyle's fingers strained to clip a dying flower from its stem, he could barely feel the rough cylinder because the fence prevented him from reaching any further. His green eyes focused on the dying piece of his as he put more pressure onto his shoulder blade. The flower was crushed underneath a leather boot of a guard, who then kicked Lyle's arm. He yanked it back through the fence and brought it to his chest dearingly. His luck in the Wastelands was getting worse; he was now a slave, going to be sold at Evergreen Mills. The people who capture him said that he'd be going to Paradise Falls if no one bought him before then.

He could be bought, like property. What kind of world is this? People were sold and bought like cattle, even penned up like stock too. His fury grew inside himself, he could slowly feel it rotting his soul. Within an instant he reached through the gate once more, grabbing the guard's pistol and firing it at the man's knee. He fell to the ground, wailing in pain, holding his knee for comfort. Lyle took a few steps back from the fence line, aiming his gun carefully as he pulled the trigger again. The squirming man suddenly became still. Every single time seemed easier than the last, dead bodies started to look like glass dolls than lifeless people.

A few more raiders entered the pen with tire irons, beating Lyle senselessly until he dropped the pistol. "You're so lucky you'd make a good body guard, otherwise we'd have your head blown off right now!" one of them snarled as he kicked Lyle's side, sending the boy to the ground. "That's the second one since he's been here, we gotta get rid of him soon." the other sheepishly suggested. Lyle's face was plastered with a smug look as his green eyes flared at the raiders. After they locked the pen back up Lyle attempted to pry the collar off of his neck, yelling with his struggle. That was the only verbal existence they got from Lyle, otherwise he kept very silent.

It helped his mysterious vibe around the place, it kept the raiders second guessing him. Being a step ahead was always a good thing. The other slaves in his pen stayed away from him, the crazy kid they found out in the Wasteland that dared to screw with the raiders. He was the only one that neglected to fear his masters.

**James placed a hand on Lyle's shoulder as the Overseer spoke viciously about Lyle's disrespectful acts in the Vault. It was the boy's ambition to get on the Overseer's nerves, he always wanted to see how far he could push those in power before they tumbled. His green eyes stayed fixated on the man of power, those green eyes, inhabiting such spite. Bending to the will of fury was encoded in Lyle's blood, a fool's errand was a fool's race. After the Overseer left the room, James walked around to be square with his son. "I am disappointed Lyle, you constantly use your strengths for negative things in this vault, when you could do something to help."**

**Lyle wanted to roll his eyes, here came James with his speeches on self righteousness. His father's fingers gently smoothed down the shoulder of Lyle's jumpsuit. "One day your determination will benefit you." Lyle was silent as he looked down to the floor, he was still too young to appreciate his father's wisdom, but old enough to make his own choices. "Lyle?" his father gave him a gentle shake. "Lyle?" the boy finally looked up, to stare at his father with identical green eyes. James had a stern look composed on his face, his intentions were of the up most sincerity as he said: "You are fearless in a way that I shall never know."**

That same green stare, gazed at the guards' backs as they walked back to the barracks. He was never going to give up, even if it meant destroying the very person that created him. There was anger inside of him, anger willing to tear anything apart. Revenge would be served, even if it meant putting a bullet into James' head, he was going to diminish his entire past. It hurt too much to remember and it was going be excruciating to forget.

Roger sat at the desk, reading an issue of Gronak the Barbarian he had read maybe eighty times, he was thankful he could read. The room was pretty bashed up with old furniture and dusty walls covered in grime. It was a place Roger called home, he wasn't too picky, wasn't like he'd seen better anyway. He casually turned the page when the front door swung open quickly. Startle forced him to jump and drop the comic on the floor by his feet, but he didn't bother to retrieve it. A small woman with a shaved head walked in, she had a strut to her walk that projected confidence. Two mercenaries followed her in and stopped at the doorway, taking poses like statues in the background.

"Alright, where's this little shit all of you are talking about?" she inquired, slamming her hands down on the desk. She was intensive and Roger nodded rashly. He couldn't help her right away, he wasn't quite sure what she was talking about. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked looking at her with an arched brow. She placed her hands on her slender hips, she seemed utterly displeased with his service. "I come all the way down here to see this fucking little shit. If you're telling me I hauled ass from Paradise Falls for nothing, someone is going to pay." she cursed, pulling out a gun and pointing it at Roger's chin.

"Oh _THAT_ little shit." he commented with a nervous smile. "Um, just go right outside, you can't miss him in pen one." he explained, he just wanted to send her away. The tiny fearful woman walked out in a huff and Roger released all the air from his lungs. She was a scary little spit-fire from the Wastes, more importantly she was with the big boys in Paradise Falls.

The slaves rustled in their pens, creeping away from the gates as the small shaved woman hustled toward them. She reached the edge and peeked in. "You serious? That scrawny thing gave you all that trouble?" she had a very loud voice, one that was already distinguishable. "He took out two of our men." a raider replied. Lyle lifted a brow, she was such a tiny woman, she was an average height, but as thin as a rail and all these men cower from her. He had never seen a woman have such an affect on men before.

"Just unlock the damn gate." she ordered as the guards fumbled to unlock it. As soon as the gates were opened she shoved through, immediately picking her prey. She took one firm step and swung her hands for Lyle's face, but he reacted lifting his hand to firmly grip her wrist. Her brows quirked as a short smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Lyle stared intensely at her with a smug smirk upon his face. "This one is feisty." she commented over her shoulder at the guard. "I'll take him for 2,000 caps." she bargained looking back at him as she yanked her wrist free from his grasp.

Her bony hands returned to her thin hips again. "So you got a name?" she inquired, her tone showed streaks of attitude. Lyle didn't respond, he enjoyed maintaining his 'mute' persona. The expression on her face scrunched to disappointment. "He gives you such hell and he can't even speak?" she questioned, looking back at the guards. They shook their heads and nodded, they couldn't decide whether to agree with her or not. Her dark eyes surveyed Lyle "I shall call you Bean Pole, you're so close to looking like one." she stated, her tone was spiteful. "I am your new master." she informed as he pulled a wad full of caps from a pouch tied to her belt. Her bare hand was given a rolled up contract, proving she _legally_ owned Lyle.

"My name is Debris, not that you'll be saying it at all." she blandly introduced, tucking the contract in her pocket. "Come Bean Pole." she ordered waving her hand towards Evergreen Mill's train yard. Lyle began to walk, passing her tiny figure, he could easily over-power her and escape, _easily. _There was something about her though, that shimmered underneath the grime built up outside. Her skin was covered in dirt and scarred from wounds, but despite the harsh treatment from the Wasteland she hid the soft layer inside. Debris couldn't be her real name either, what parent would name their kid rubble?

His fingers reached up to pull at the edge of his collar, he didn't want an owner, he didn't want to leave. He'd rather stay put than get deeper into this mess. Debris chuckled as she witnessed his efforts. "You're not getting out of that collar Bean Pole." she taunted. "Seriously, what's your name? Bean Pole doesn't suit you." Lyle lowered his hands from the collar and his green eyes turned to the sky. He watched the clouds pass by overhead, trailing off without him. "My name is Lyle." finally, he spoke, his voice a little dry from lack of use. She seemed delighted to have a name to call him as she repeated it. "Lyle."


	7. Chapter 6: A Life of Lies & Fabrications

The way Debris spoke to Lyle indicated she had grown awfully lonely, when he was alone with her often, he'd just listen. Her tone was a lot softer and less rounded then she projected it to be. She avoided her birthplace entirely in conversation, like it was something she was guilty about. Most conversations were warning, Debris usually ranted on how tough it was surviving in the Wasteland, then would point at Lyle for assurance, like she was raising her own child. He didn't think it made any sense. All of these interactions took place in the week's walk to Paradise Falls. Once they got there Lyle had particularly special treatment, he wasn't penned up with the rest of the slaves, but given a small closet space in the visitor's barracks. Debris protected him like a mother lion over her cub, anytime some one stood up to her she roared. Lyle admired the fact she was such a tiny woman that could evoke so much fear.

Paradise was just a 'pit stop', Debris was heading for a place called _Freedom Fight, _it was a ruin theatre. She explained that plays used to take place there, with a stage and circular audience. A party of raiders, including herself gutted the place and rigged it to put on the best performances in the Wasteland, all for the price of five caps. The whole purpose of Freedom Fight was for slaves to contend against each other to win their freedom, this idea was developed by raiders from a place called The Pitt. Debris and another raider she referred to as Aaron, thought it would be more exciting if owners contended for money, by using slaves. The game became more interesting as people from all walks of life began bringing more than just slaves to compete. She described it as the most exhilarating entertainment in a life-time.

This was where Lyle fit into the puzzle. Debris always scouted for fresh meat, particularly slaves that showed promise. Paradise Falls was the main junction of slavery, if there was a mole she desired, they knew where it would be. He fit the criteria and that's all he was, a bruise bag for these _games_. The reward system was ingenious, having low entry fines and allowing the audience to bet on different contenders. It was probably the most advanced system currently running in D.C. Lyle was told he'd have to train a lot before even desiring to be apart of the games, because there were things that could tear him to shreds if he wasn't properly prepared. Freedom Fight was the label of the games, but the entire establishment took place west of Old Olney.

Clifftop, which was its current name was a city full of raiders, a trading outlet for the scum of the Wasteland, considering raiders weren't very welcome in most settlements, they decided to create their own. It was very discrete because the entire city was underground, including the threatre. That was managed by a lot of rubble and the mountainous geography. For decades the city remain undisturbed by Wastelanders, that was the beauty of it all. This is what Lyle learned just from listening to his master. Just because he picked up on a lot she said, or attempted to understand the soft-spoken woman he saw rarely, it didn't exclude him from typical treatment as a possession. He got special treatment from strangers because Debris didn't want anyone mishandling her champion for the games, but she did her fair share of punishment, brutality apparently built character.

Just from a week he already had bruises and welts under his skin. To prove her strength she delightfully gave him a black eye and a gaping cut running along his cheekbone. Nothing that could put Lyle out of service, but definitely something that was uncomfortable.

He stood holding a pile of junk Debris wanted to trade. "Look Pronto, I'll trade you all this shit for getting him suited up." she said, pointing to Lyle. The Hispanic eyed Lyle and a smile crept across his chin. "Ah you're taking him to the Freedom Fight aren't you?" he sounded intrigued. "You gonna tell him what happened to all your other 'champions'?" he taunted as Debris rolled her eyes. "Can it Pronto, he's tougher than he looks." she boasted. "Now is it a deal or what?"

Pronto grabbed at the pile in Lyle's hands, spreading each item across the counter, he took his time examining the loot. Lyle could tell he was calculating quality in his head. "I'll give you armor, melee weapon and persona." Pronto agreed. Debris nodded and turned to Lyle, stroking her chin like she was in an art museum, attempting to interpret the paintings. "I want sadist armor, biker goggles, they're so good with keeping out dirt and cut his hair, he looks like some prissy vault rat." she turned to Pronto, placing her palms on the counter. "I want the Iron Maiden." she whispered. Pronto seemed willing to comply until that point. His lips gaped open as his face expressed disgust.

"You want to trade petty garbage for that? All this trash wouldn't sum up to a quarter of what that is worth! It's the only treasure Paradise Falls has." he started to gather up her pile of junk. "No No No Pronto! If you give him the Iron Maiden, he'd win. Imagine getting twenty-five percent, maybe even fifty? Clifftop would establish Paradise Falls as an official trade post, you'd have a lot more business and every would be better." she coaxed, Debris was very charismatic. Pronto frowned as he thought it through. "Forty percent and I'll give you the weapon." Debris nodded with a wide smile spread across her face. "Forty it is." she promised.

Pronto leaned down, bringing up a footlocker onto the counter. His fingers fumbled through a ring of keys to find the matching one. He opened the lid to reveal an iron glove, looking like the hand of a giant. That was it? They both made such a huge deal over a dull glove? Pronto looked at Lyle "Go ahead, try it on." His green eyes looked over to Debris, he wouldn't do anything without her permission, he was too at too much risk with that damn collar around his neck. She nodded with approval as he reached out and grabbed the glove, slipping it onto his right hand. The mechanical fingers whirred as he bent his ligaments. He could feel it weigh down his arm and he could feel the power.

The rusted iron slowly lightened to a metallic silver as a powering sound started up. Lyle twisted his wrist to watch the metal change color. Pronto had a huge grimace across his face. "That right there is a unique adaptive alloy. The strongest engineered metal in the Capital Wasteland, it can do more than just hit. It was a pain in the ass to obtain." he explained, his eyes fixated on the glove. Lyle gently took off the glove and set it back into the case. "Alright Pronto, hand it over." she ordered, holding out her palm for the locker key. He slowly removed the tiny brass key from his ring and handing it over to her. "Take the case Lyle." she demanded as she walked out of the building.

Lyle wrapped his arms around the footlocker and lifted it from the counter, following Debris out of Lock and Load. The tiny woman pulled out a cigarette, gently placing it between her pink lips, she pulled out a lighter and lit the end of the white cylinder. Lyle's eyes fixated on the flame that lasted mere seconds. "Where can I get one of those?" he inquired, speaking out of term was punishable, but he was curious. Debris held out the cigarette, breathing out heavy smoke from her nostrils. "You want to smoke?" she questioned. Lyle shook his head. Debris arched a brow as she pulled out her lightly, waving it slightly before him. "Why do you want a liter?"

He wanted it for the fire, there was nothing too complicated about his desire. There was something uncontrollable about fire that he was attracted to, perhaps it reminded him vaguely of himself. Debris gently set it on top of the case Lyle was holding. "Keep it, I can get another one anyway." she seemed content without and answer as she continued to walk for the visitor barracks, a trail of smoke following her. He followed her close behind, placing the case where she demanded, near the foot of her bed. Nothing was going to get to that case, she was going to make sure of it. "Go back to Pronto, get changed and tell him how you want your hair cut." Her fingers pried at his hair, brushed back in a fancy way, it really didn't suit his thin face. "You look like some spineless vault rat." she muttered taking a drag of her nearly done cigarette.

Doing as she demanded, he headed back to Lock and Load. His green eyes fixated on the Hispanic behind the counter. "Debris sent me back to get dressed and my hair needs to be cut." his voice was shallow, people had a tendency to mistreat him and he couldn't stand being unable to fight back. Pronto nodded as he placed the armor and goggles on the counter. "Outfit is easy, but what do you want to do with your hair?" he inquired, ushering Lyle to a chair in the far corner.

The image of a dark man with soot coating his profound cheeks entered his mind, the fan in one ribbon along the man's scalp. Vin was a scumbag, but Lyle admired the hair. His hands reached over his head, pressing together like a fin as he trailed it along his crown, like Vin's was. "I want that." he said as he did the motion again. Pronto chuckled. "War hawk? Why did I have a feeling you'd be into something like that." he grabbed scissors as he started to cut off wads of Lyle's hair. His green eyes stared at the wall as Pronto kept cutting. "I doubt you're going to make it man." he started small talk, but it seemed degrading more than a conversation. "I've seen slaves like you before, Debris brings them around all the time. They all get bashed in the Freedom Fight." he set down the scissors after he was finished, within a second, Lyle had the shears in his palm, holding Pronto against the wall, with the close blades at his neck. "Now you listen to me." Lyle growled, pinning Pronto to the wall, the shears so close to piercing his flesh. "I've made it this far, Nothing is going to stop me." he threatened, shoving his forearm against Pronto's neck. Slavery was only a minor set back in Lyle's book, it was only a matter of time until he cleverly constructed a plan for his escape.

He gently brushed the scissors down Pronto's artery in a provoking way and then set them down on the table. "Thanks." he expressed gratitude as he released the Hispanic to pick up his clothing. Lyle walked across the lot to the visitor's barracks, returning to his master. Debris observed his hair cut skeptically, but with one smile he could tell she approved. She had no idea about the violence expressed towards Pronto at Lock and Load, she didn't have to know either. Lyle was waiting for the perfect moment to break free from her hold, all the needed was the detonator she kept. Even better, the key that took his god damned collar off.

The opportunity would present itself, he just had to be patient. "Rest Lyle, You'll need sleep because we're off to Clifftop tomorrow." she ordered. "I'm going to get a drink." she announced as she left the barracks. Lyle walked to his closet, lying comfortably on his mattress thrown on the ground. He could feel the floor through the mat of sheets, it made it extremely difficult to sleep, but eventually exhaustion caused him to rest.

**There was a dimly lit corridor of Lyle's home vault. He found himself slowly walking through each segment of metal hall, quietly setting down his booted feet. James stood at the opposing end, extending his hand out for his son to reach and take hold. Lyle felt a shift in the air as it dropped a few degrees and water began seeping from the corners of the corridor. A smile brushed across James' bearded chin as his fingers curled into a fist, bringing his hand to his chest. "Peace, son. A better place for everyone." he said fondly, his voice echoed down the empty walk. The water didn't seem to touch James, it was only filling up around Lyle. **

"**What is this?" Lyle asked frightened. The water pooled up to his waist now, his feet were stuck to the ground. He reached out for his father, his expression pleading mercy, but his father stood with a wide grimace upon his face. "James!" Lyle beckoned as the water rose to swallow his chest. His lungs compressed as the pressure built up on his chest cavity. His hands still reached for his father. "Dad!" he called again, panicked as the water swirled around his jaw. With his last words he inhaled a portion of air, containing it in his lungs as the water engulfed his head. **

**His inherited green eyes squinted in the liquid, to see a curvy image of his father beyond the wall of water. James was perfectly fine, dancing in the waves as he stood outside the trap Lyle was slowly drowning in. His lungs felt like they were going to explode so he exhaled, watching the bubbles flutter from his mouth to the exterior. The water pressed against his empty chest as he held his breath until his lungs felt like crumbling into dust. He couldn't withstand it any longer as water began to seep into his chest, replacing all the air he had within him.**

Lyle shot up from his mattress, taking a giant gasp of air, appreciating how it felt in his lungs. It was one of those dreams, that felt so real he could still feel the ice cold water prickling his skin. His eyes looked up as Debris entered his sight. She looked very displeased, holding a book in her hands. "Pronto told me about your little incident." she commented, taking the book and slamming it into Lyle's jaw. Her face was then so close he could feel her breath stroke his face. "Never make me look like a fool again. I control you, _slave_." she growled. Lyle could feel blood coat the inside of his mouth from the impact of the book, but he wasn't going to say anything about it. One of these days, Debris would pay for her cruelty.

It burned him up inside, because Lyle knew his father would let him drown for the sake of the world. All that self righteous bullcrap he believed in. No one was perfect, everyone was just human, everyone had flaws and they all sinned. Even James sinned at some point or another. He wasn't as perfect as he desired to be. All these years he was hiding something, something more important than Lyle was out here in the Wasteland. The fury swelled inside Lyle, the more he thought about it the more he could feel it corrupt him with hatred. Every day that passed he vowed more and more to make James pay. Show him that It wasn't worth leaving the vault, despite his reason. What did James expect, Lyle to keep living like nothing had ever happened? He was a self absorbed fool, every time he thought something was the _right_ thing to do, he neglected to think about the people his actions may affect. James lost the right to be called father, Lyle didn't respect him anymore, it was just James now. Lyle knew that if he ever saw his father again, he'd address him as James.

He wanted his father to feel the detachment from his son. It was only fair to make him feel neglected, just like he inflicted. There was so much hatred built up inside, his master would never fathom what he was capable of. It had been three days since Paradise Falls, they were making their way to Clifftop, but Debris wanted to take another tiny 'pit stop' in Reclining Groves Resort Homes. It wasn't a settlement, but she mentioned a scavenger had set up a small trading post. She claimed that he was a good source for chems and cigarettes without going out of the way for these things. The post was on the way to Clifftop. Debris was the only one that conversed with Lyle, the two mercenaries kept their distance, speaking in lower tones so no one would be able to hear them. It was clear they were on the team for the money, no that they had any affiliation with her, whatsoever.

Reclining Groves was just a bunch of ruin houses, with one barn intact. The mercenaries decided to share a smoke on the far end of the settlement, keeping their careful distance as usual. Debris disappeared into the barn to do her bidding. Lyle was left outside, alone. His fingers pressed a button on his pip-boy and it began recording:

_It's been a while since I did my last update, but it's been difficult to find a good time_

His eyes surveyed the ruined lot, assuring himself no one was watching.

_I've been put into slavery, the sick minded society out here, sells and buys people like animals. They are preparing me to compete in something called Freedom Fight, which it may be the end for me. Apparently a lot of people die in these fights. I'll try to send another update, but I'm currently devising a plan to escape my master._

He pressed the send button, hoping these messages actually reached the Overseer. Lyle looked back at the barn to see Debris walking out with a handful of items. She picked out an oddly shaped needle, holding it up to Lyle, he noticed she had several more. "See these?" she inquired. "These are going to help you win the Freedom Fight." she informed. His brow arched curiously, wondering what it was exactly. "This is Psycho love." she stated "Gives you the strength of an ox, but the brain of a pea. It's one of the most clever drugs in the Wasteland." He didn't like the sound of that, she was going to turn Lyle into a mindless monster, when his strength was cleverness. His green eyes looked at the brown wrapped syringe, he really didn't like the looks of it either.

* * *

**Four Days Later….**

Clifftop was hidden quite well, the only entrance was through an abandoned shack. The only square room intact was a walk-in closet, swiped clean from scavenging. Activation of the elevator was through a switch in the back, underneath a panel. It would have taken a genius to locate it, really someone would have to be looking for a secret switch to find it. The elevator opened up to a street market, it was a congregation of the most people he's seen in the Wasteland, it had to be bigger than Megaton and Tenpenny combined. All of them were raiders, slavers, mercs and the occasional bounty man. They over-populated the Wasteland and no one knew. It wasn't a bunker, it was literally a dirt road with houses littering the area, in the way back he could see the high rim of the stadium Debris described. It was a settlement covered in rocks from a landslide, the shacks on Clifftop were the only establishment not consumed by Earth.

It took years to dig everything out and clean it, but in the end the work was worth it. She explained that the canopy above their heads was welded with melted metal, so it wouldn't cave in on all their heads. Raiders were given less credit than they deserved in the Wasteland. Of course they were good at killing and torture, but some were engineers and mechanics. A lot of them were specialists in Clifftop. Raiders out in the Wasteland were rejects who fed on humans in order to survive. Debris explained that there were instances where a raider would be banned from Clifftop and forced to face the Wasteland, doing whatever it took to survive. Once banned from Clifftop, there was no where else to go, being rejected from the settlement of rejects was falling down low on the totem pole.

Lyle found it relieving that he wouldn't see tattered bodies everywhere. Debris escorted everyone to a small building, her hand pulled out a key to unlock the front door. It had to be her residence in Clifftop. "Set the case by the door." she ordered. Lyle couldn't wait to rid himself of the heavy case, he had been carrying it the entire journey. "This is where you'll be living Lyle." she informed as she opened a door to another closet. He enjoyed windows, he'd prefer the pen over a dark, dank closet.

"I am the only one allowed upstairs. You are to sleep after I go to bed and you must be awake before I wake, understand? Even though you have freedom on this floor, does not mean you have authority to use anything. You eat when I give you food, you do as I say. The only thing you don't need my permission to do is use the bathroom, but don't use it when I request something of you and don't disappear in there when I'm looking for you." she explained the house rules. It seemed fair enough, but he didn't want to comply. He entered his closet and sat down on the hard mattress, he wasn't going to get nice rest for the rest of his enslaved life.

Debris went up the stairs so he was alone again. His green eyes surveyed the closet, it was pleasant because this time he got a little lantern to shed some light in the small space. It was rather clean with a dresser, inside was more pillowcases for him to wear. His fingers searched through the clothes, touching an object hidden underneath the clothes. It was a pencil and a clipboard of paper, his eyes examined words etched onto the scrap: **Maye Nam Iz Umblee**. The last slave here was illiterate, society crumbled so badly out here that Lyle began missing the Vault tremendously. Umblee was probably dead, another victim to Debris' aspiration to win the Freedom Fight.

He tore off that page and threw it into the corner, taking the pencil he started to sketch that beautiful contraption he saw by Megaton. Lyle desired to have one, whatever it was. Little did he know it was called a car and it used to be a profession to design them. They also sold them in mass quantities to everyone. It wasn't abnormal to own a car, but in this case it was unique. After twenty minutes of sketching he decided to change into his pillowcases and walk around the house. Might as well explore where he'll be living for who knows how long. It was surprisingly clean and organized, a side to Debris he never thought he'd find. She had broken statues that were washed on shelves, it looked like she actually attempted to make a home out of this place. He stepped through the glass doors that led outside to the back of the house. His green eyes surveyed nearby houses, intact as well.

This place was amazing, the most structured settlement he's ever witnessed. His ears picked up the light sound of chimes as his eyes searched for the source. He approached a small shed in the backyard, all he could observe was a the faded blue siding, but when he walked around to locate a door, the entire side of the shed was gone. His brows furrowed as he examined the interior. The west and east wall were gone, inside there were many different kinds of glass bottles tied to strings, dangling from the ceiling. His heart sped up a little, the thought of decapitated cadavers entered his mind. Despite his morbid imagination he pressed through the sheet of bottles into a small opened, which a stool was centered. This room was rather curious, he didn't understand the dynamics or the purpose of it.

A tiny beam of light streaked through a hole in the canopy overhead. The stream ran directly through the west side of the shed, refracting in a curved clear glass bottle, sprinkling light through the other glass bottles. It illuminated the entire shack, splashing colors all over Lyle's vision. He had never seen anything so, _beautiful in his life. _


	8. Chapter 7: You're Pulling the Trigger

Unfortunately, there was no such thing as training for the Freedom Fight. Basically, all the owners threw in their champions and hoped for the best. That was the whole point of Debris searching for feisty slaves, champions can't be trained, they're created that way. Lyle had no idea what he was getting into, but he could hear the thunder of a thousand voices shake the ceiling. Everyone in Clifftop must have attended the Freedom Fight. Debris fastened a few straps of his armor, running her fingers along his chest, she looked like a mother sending her kid to pre-school on the first day. Her dark eyes sparkled with ambition, but showed that underlying worry. "Alright Lyle." she sighed as she turned to a nearby table, opening the footlocker they dragged from Paradise Falls.

His green eyes watched her picked up the glove, bringing it to his hands. "Do whatever it takes to survive up there." she coached shoving the glove onto his hand. The metal lightened in color as it came in contact with his skin. She pulled his goggles up to his eyes, adjusting them for they fit tightly. "There is more than just slaves in that arena." she informed as her eyes surveyed her champion. He couldn't help but to feel pressure on his chest as his heart beat wildly from fear. This was it; he could _really_ die this time. It was all about killing the other guy and for some one else, Lyle was the other guy. It was hard to swallow the rock in his throat because his stomach was tied in knots. "Are you ready?" she asked looking up at him.

He bit harshly into his lower lip as he gave a small nod, he could feel his body shaking uncontrollably. Debris ushered him into the next room, which was a hall full of cells on either side. They were open cells with simple barred walls. She opened an empty cell and shoved Lyle in. "You better not fuck this up." she threatened, pointing a slender finger at him. After she left Lyle looked at the other cells to observed his competition. There was plenty of diversity, humans and ghouls from all walks of life; slaves, mercs, raiders. The one competitor that caught his attention was a being in the cell next to him. It was a large, green overgrown human with a distorted face.

Lyle cautiously approached the end of his cell, close enough to interact with the thing, but far out of arm's reach. "_Hey_." he beckoned, keeping his voice down as a few rowdy competitors muttered insanely to themselves. The mutant briefly looked over with hazel eyes, but diverted his attention to the floor without much response. One slave pointed to Lyle from across the hall "NEW MEAT, NEW MEAT!" he sang loudly, hackling like a loon. A few other people called and cursed at him, making it an intense environment. Lyle ignored the harassment and crouched down to look up at the mutant's face. "_Hey_." he called again, the mutant's stare shifted to him, but there was still no response.

"_Are you just as scared as I am?"_ he asked, attempting to make conversation with the beast, Lyle had a knack for pairing up with outcasts. The large head of the mutant gave one nod. "_My name is Lyle_." he introduced himself, he honestly didn't expect an answer from the creature, it didn't show much intelligence. "Windlaw." a deep voice emitted from the mutant's mouth. It's voice was loud, booming in volume with every syllable and rough, rounded punctuations. "_Windlaw, what happens next?_" he pressed on with the questionnaire. A large tree trunk index pointed to the first set of cells. "You fight the man across from you, they take you up to the sky and you fight. Winner comes back down, loser…" his pointed finger lowered to the end of the hall.

Lyle turned to look at the open space beyond the first cells, he could see a light rings dance an inch above the floor. It looked like a pit of fire that dropped below ground level and the top continued past his visual point. "They burn your dead body." Windlaw explained simply. Lyle's interior tied in more knots as his green eyes looked at the pit of fire. He felt his stomach churn, desiring to purge his last meal. A fear so strong his gut felt like it began to rot. His gaze turned to the cell across from him, the crazy man singing fresh meat reached his arms through the bars at Lyle. In the first two cells, the floors began to rise, lifting the contenders through the ceiling, the first round had just begun.

Windlaw went back to staring at the floor, leaving Lyle to panic alone in his cell. His hand went into his pocket to pull out two syringes. He had two doses of psycho, Debris basically told him to use in the last few rounds, if he made it that far because that's when the rivals got tougher. "_Windlaw._" he called again, holding a psycho through the bars into the mutant's cell. "_Here, take it._" he offered. The monster chuckled. "Silly human, I don't need to enhance my strength." yet he took the chem anyway. "Thank you friend, I hope you last as long as me." he expressed an odd form of gratitude and wished him luck. Lyle sat down, bringing his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself. The edge of the hall flared and he could feel the heat rush through the hall as one of the first verses returned to his cell. The second set lifted up, only three more until Lyle's turn. Windlaw noticed Lyle's massive discomfort, imitating a child who was afraid of the dark. "I came from Vault 87, living there with a dear friend, Fawkes. He isolated himself in refusal to be like the rest of our kind. The moment I decided to set out and look for a better future, I'm captured and brought here to compete." his rough loud voice nearly made it irritating to listen to, but another vault rat made him feel a little comforted.

"_I grew up in a vault._" Lyle started to speak, but he ceased as his mind reeled through all of his actions in the past few weeks. "_I left for revenge."_ that's all he was willing to sum up. So few words made him sound like a monster worse than the one next to him. His intentions were strictly malicious. He could imagine; what kind of person did that make him? Windlaw nodded briefly, realizing that Lyle was lost to his own judgment. The mutant had an appearance of a beast, but his heart seemed purer than Lyle's. All the creature ever wanted was acceptance and a life style away from the morbid behaviors of his kin. The beast sought beauty.

Another rise in light emitted from the end of the hall, he could feel the heat prickle his skin as the cells traded off; two more. Lyle's mind burned out as his eyes stared blankly at the floor, now he understood why the mutant gazed off into space. His senses dulled out with the value of time, all he could feel was the waves of heat and see the blaze of fire as contenders traded; one. He stood, still feeling completely numbed from his surroundings. The rhythm of his heart pulsated within his chest cavity as the hall flared with orange color. Soon after the cell diagonally opposite of him brought the floor down, his nerves prepared as he expected the floor to start lifting.

A loud noise sounded from the ceiling as the floor began to rise through an opening, pulled apart like a giant machine. The mechanism brought Lyle into a small square room, no wider than his cell floor. There were no windows and no doors, he was trapped with no escape. It wasn't long until the walls shifted, plates overlapping to expose him to the audience. His head filled with the sea of roars, a lot of people attended these games. The walls of the room bloomed like a flower, flapping flat against the dirt ground. His green eyes surveyed the large contained space, with tall walls, seating thousands of people from the Wastelands. Just the sight of a huge congregation of people, egging him to die struck him with fear. He felt overwhelmed as his senses caught fire, burning through his mind and tearing every tendon. The last thing he recalled was a bright light blinding his eyes.

* * *

Joseph sat in his wood chair, watching the sun peek up from behind the roofs of city buildings. He distinguished them as thick shadows beyond the far stretch of lawn and his window. Over and over again he played out a speech in his head, elaborating his reason like attempting to ask his father for a dog. Was it fate that day or was it justice? He grew up in a wealthy family in Alaska, there was a reason he fought so hard for his home state. His father was a stern man, but one with vicious just; a noble hero of the present century. The man was an inspiration for Joseph and he made all of his decisions in his father's image.

The door behind him opened and he looked over his shoulder at a suited man. A thin dark face with two chocolate eyes looked back at him, the young man's face was engraved with a solemn expression. "Mr. President, they're ready for you." he informed as Joseph nodded, standing from his rest. He followed the dark man out of the side room into the famous oval office. Decades of survival and its legacy was about to vanish . Joseph seated himself at the large desk, adjusting his tie for appealing appearance and nodded to initiate the live broadcast. He neatly folded his hands together over the smooth surface of his desk, looking across the way at a blank screen, nothing was pre-typed for him. His lips parted as he took a long breath of air before delivering the most disturbing news of all time.

**God Create Life in Seven Days**

"_Hello, My fellow Americans. I come to you today not as your President, but as a messenger. For decades our country have grown and thrived as a nation, setting aside differences for the luxury of unity. We have overcome the obstacles of our society, oppression, slavery and segregation. I had hoped that our forefather's ambitions projected through us, but I solemnly regret to announce that we have failed. It isn't in my understanding why human beings habitually despise each other over materialistic treasures, when our most prized possession was our brothers. Our war with China has expanded over the world, yesterday night the United Nations disbanded further co-operation of all countries. This action has officially put the world in nuclear war. This morning China launched a wave of bombers to demolish our cities, eventually they will launch their Nuclear Weapons. You know just as well as I do it is impossible for all of us to survive a nuclear hit. _

_I wish as your President I could promise your survival, but I can grant some comfort because I can not guarantee your fate. This is our moment of judgment, not from God, but by ourselves. Use these last few moments to sort our conscience. Our end is inevitable, this is the final frontier. As your President I will not abandon my country, I shall never abandon you. We need to stand together as a country despite our destruction. The deepest concern within my heart is for you to survive. That humanity lives past our mistakes and we learn, we grow from errors in judgment. After this we may be able to make our founding father's proud. That we stand together in the darkness as allies instead of strangers. The future is ominous, but we shall prevail. We shall move on. _

**The World Ended in Two Hours**

**

* * *

**

Lyle's senses came back to life as his vision focused on a wide disc, slicing towards his head. He quickly ducked away from the crazy obsessed with 'fresh meat'. The cannibal had sharp discs strapped to his hands, all weapons in Freedom Fight had to be melee or unarmed, otherwise the fight ended too quickly. The people enjoyed seeing a bloody battle than a quick bullet. He sliced vertically as Lyle hopped back, causing the disc to stick the ground. The cannibal didn't hesitate, entrapping the disc from his hand, relying on the other one to achieve victory. He was too quick, Lyle couldn't get a shot, only dodging every flourish. Every time he heard the blade whistle past his ear his heard fluttered in fear. There wasn't a doubt now that this was going to be the place and time he was going to die.

The crowd riled loudly, booing Lyle's performance because the only thing he was capable of was dodging every attack. He had no experience at all with hand to hand combat. Shooting came a little bit easier because he used the BB gun his father gave him. He used it almost everyday since he was ten years old, shooting radroaches and tin cans. The anger began to boil inside of him again, the more he thought about his father. Fury pulsated through his veins, pumping his muscles as he took a harsh swing at the man's head, with his free hand. His power fist was too far from dodging to use. He felt his knuckles contact the bony cheek of the man as his head flew in the opposite direction. Lyle's green eyes witnessed blood project from his mouth into the air. His opponent was vulnerable and Lyle took advantage of it, swinging his power fist into the center of the man's chest. A loud crushing and snapping noise emitted from the man's rib cage as he fell flat on his back.

Lyle observed crimson liquid pool around the corpse of the man. He turned to look at the power fist, was it really that powerful? Robots he had never seen before crawled out of holes in the wall, they imitated insects, clicking their steel legs as they approached Lyle. He stood in confusion, keeping his ground, was this a part of the fight? The robots poked out poles that buzzed with electricity, backing him up, back onto the square he first came. Lyle watched the robots surround him, but maintaining distance as the flaps lifted up to fold over his body. The floor lowered him back into the cell and Windlaw's floor rose. Lyle watched as the fire died down from the cannibal's body burned. All of the cells were empty now, even the winners were missing.

Debris entered the hall, walking up to Lyle's cell. "Good job boy, you won Freedom Fight." his face distorted with confusion. "Just one fight?" he inquired, frustrated. "Well kiddo, do you think Freedom Fight would last if we killed off all the competition in one round? Most of us don't have all the caps in the world, it's hard finding little fucks like you." he explained, which it did make a lot of sense. "You're considered a champion if you last for a long time in the rounds, the more you show up the more people put caps on you." she seemed displeased when she informed: "No one bet on you first show because they don't know what you're capable of. Round two will be a little more promising." she unlocked the caged and pulled him out, shoving him through the door. Now she seemed rather abusive and distasteful, Lyle feared her attitude towards him when they got home.

She insisted Lyle enter first, as he opened the door her sole kicked the small of his back into the main area. "You bleeding sod, all you did was dodge them take the guy right out! Make it a little bit interesting! I need caps and playing it safe isn't going to get me caps." she growled circling Lyle's fallen body. For a tiny woman she forced a lot of strength. _Don't get up_, he told himself. If he didn't get up she wouldn't be invited to hit him again. His teeth gently bit into his lower lip, he was actually attempting to avoid _crying_ like a wuss. Being miserable wasn't an excuse, believing that he'd never see the light of day wasn't one either. He had never been so abused in his life.

Of course he had occasionally gotten a broken bone or a cut, but never did he have to endure dire weather and physical abuse. The vault spoiled him yet blinded him in so many ways, he felt naked, stripped by Debris, _dominated_. His green eyes stayed fixated on the fibers of the worn rug floor, but his mind traveled past the room, outside of Clifftop. All he could think of was the smooth complexion of Amata's face, but he couldn't remember more; she never gave him the luxury he desired. There was a place where he didn't know pain, he took advantage of it, but more than ever, he blamed James. Every time his ribs stung from Debris' shoe bashing into his side, he blamed James even more.

He grit his teeth, trying to bare the pain, but Debris was only in the mood for more. "What? Can't take a hit?" she taunted reaching into her pocket for a psycho. "You're weak Lyle! You have an attitude of a fox, but you're as spineless as a an eel." she squirt a little bit of liquid from the needle. "You're going to be number one in Freedom Fight, you're going to be a celebrity. You're going to make me a rich woman Lyle." she ordered as she stabbed his arm with the needle. "I treasured your spite, but I need you to win more than anything else." her fingers squeeze the liquid into his bloodstream. She pulled the syringe out and then kicked his chin, knocking him unconscious.

The morning woke him as his eyelids opened to the dark closet that was now his home. His body felt incredibly sore, fortunately he wasn't in pain anymore. He sat up, his pillow cases felt a little tighter, not incredibly, but he felt a little different. His hands pulled his shirt over his head and left the closet into the main room. Debris had a chipped mirror hanging on the wall, she knew he'd look, she placed a note on the glass. He plucked the paper off the wall and read her scribbled handwriting, she didn't know how to spell.

_Lieal, thar ar som things yew need to do today. Clean da house. Take yer siako, itz in da frige. _

_His eyes left the note as he looked at himself in the mirror. The frail, thin, shapeless figure he left the vault with was gone, hidden underneath plump muscle. He flexed, noticing the difference in his structure. It was impossible. James told him muscle building was a long process that involved a lot of work, but Lyle never had the motivation to go to the Vault's gym. Psycho was a drug, James nagged Lyle all the time about drugs, but this felt good. Nothing like what James haunted him over, using dark works and morbid results. All Lyle had to do was take the same dose everyday and he wouldn't be a bleeding super mutant. _

_Lyle had to have the house clean before Debris returned, wherever she went. Cleaning was something he was good at, being a Sanitation 'Officer' in Vault 101 guaranteed that. At least he could work without Debris beating him for every move he made. The house meant her room, so that was the first place he was going to clean. He emerged into her room, observing the empty alcohol bottles strewn about the floor. It was very clear she had a drinking problem, most likely a chem addict as well. She was one messed up crock pot and he had to live with her for as long as it takes. _

_At the end of the day Lyle walked into the kitchen, taking his psycho from the fridge. He sat down at the table, stretching his arm out to prick himself with the edge of the needle. A sharp pinch ignited his nerves as he injected himself with the drug. He could feel it pulse through his bloodstream, infecting his entire body. It felt so good, the sudden high of strength, knowing he could pick up a Bhramin without any trouble. He leaned his head back as his eyes slowly closed, the rush was so strong it put him to sleep._


	9. Chapter 8: Swore It Never Happened

_There's no such thing as destiny._

_There are only different choices._

_Some choices are easy, some aren't._

_Those are the really important ones,_

_the ones that defines us as people._

_

* * *

_

The next day was shopping day for Lyle, he was a little errand slave, meant to die every Friday and attend small tasks every other day of the week, including his nightly beatings as an outlet for Debris' drunken rage. Something disturbed his master, underneath the rough bruises and tough guy attitude, something ate away at her core; fury has no enemies. The same look from her eyes gleamed in Lyle's, the underlying evil and rage, just waiting to burst out. Clifftop had a street market, with an assortment of booths that sold various goods. In Lyle's short journey he had never witnessed anything so social, Clifftop was not just the home of the Freedom Fight, but it was the trade tycoon of the Capital Wasteland. Clifftop was an establishment a little too advanced for such a destroyed region.

He wanted to know the story behind Clifftop, so he set it as a personal objective to investigate. The list consisted of psycho, jet, whiskey, purified water, Salisbury steak and a pack of cigarettes. The first stop was the chem and alcohol stand, might as well get the dirty work done with. His green eyes examined the crates filled with bottles and syringes, the very thought of another needle made him cringe slightly. Some of these chems he never heard of before. His hand picked up a few to read the labels, Hydra, Turbo, trade goods were fancier in Clifftop too. "I'll have two doses of psycho three doses of jet, few bottles of whiskey, cigarettes and…a bottle of scotch." Lyle ordered. His taped fingers lifted up the bottle of scotch, turning around the bottle to observe the label, it was quality.

James loved scotch, he never liked to admit he liked alcohol, probably considered it a bad influence for Lyle; not that any of James' precautions mattered anymore. As much as he despised his father, the man was always on Lyle's mind weaved into his thoughts and reason. Perhaps he wouldn't be engraved into Lyle's brain if he had never damaged his son so deviously. It was easy to forget why it happened or what occurred, but he'd _never_ forget how it made him feel and that was his strength. "I would like psycho as well." a loud raging voice sounded next to Lyle. The man looked over to see the giant green mutant next to him, they both had matching slave collars around their necks.

"Be careful my friend, this stuff is very addicting." Windlaw advised taking his small brown bag of chems. Lyle frowned slightly. "Why did you take my psycho?" it just seemed with all of Windlaw's responses to the drug, he didn't approve, yet he took it anyway? "My master is addicted, I took yours so that you won't reach the same fate." his dark beady eyes surveyed Lyle's figure. "I see you have already taken some." his voice was booming, Lyle heard his brain rattle from each syllable spoken. The green monster had a bigger heart than Lyle did and he was supposed to be the compassionate human. The storekeeper handed Lyle his giant bag of goods and he exchanged the caps. Windlaw stayed with Lyle, had he found another ally? It was odd because Lyle attracted the outcasts of society, he wasn't exactly part of the gang either.

He walked to the next vendor, choosing the bottles of water and the best steak he could find, most of it was choosing between the greater evil. Windlaw followed him without a word, Lyle decided he was going to start a conversation. "I came from Vault 101, maybe about a month ago." he informed, waiting to the giant's response. "It's very different being out in this _Capital Wasteland_." Lyle felt comfortable confiding in Windlaw, they both came from the same isolated place, maybe the giant a little bit unfortunate, but still similar circumstance. "Vault 101 is one of the few that stayed closed all these years." Windlaw stated, he seemed rather upset with this fact. "Some people are still underground, safe from all of the dangers in the world." Lyle had to agree, if he knew all of this were out here before he left, he would have never even considered it.

"What was your vault like Windlaw?" Lyle asked taking the other bag from the vendor, struggling to give him the caps, his hands were now full. "It's always been the same, I don't know what it was like before, well before this." he didn't have a better way to explain it. His vault was always a nest of mutated things that did terrible things to human beings. "What do you think the world was like before, this?" he inquired, he was really curious now. It was over two hundred years ago that all the vault doors shut for the first time, over that long period they opened back up, some stayed closed probably for a thousand years more. What made people so afraid, bombs obviously, but what was behind it?

"You ask too many questions my friend. Enjoy the knowledge you have, you may not like the answers you seek." Windlaw advised. Lyle _knew_ that his father left Vault 101, but he didn't know why. Perhaps it was an omen, Windlaw unintentionally guided Lyle through the darkest days of his life. If slavery didn't stop him from pursuing James, what would? There weren't any limits and that's what frightened him, maybe that's what frightened Amata. Amata grew up with him, knew him since the day they were born. She probably knew all this time that there was a fire inside Lyle, burning brighter every year. An evil his own father ignored and unleashed. It was only fair, by nature that the creator be destroyed by the creation.

Actually killing James only crossed his mind once, but the more time he spent in an infecting world the more influenced that one idea became. Ideas never loss their meaning, words can eventually be erased and stories unheard, but ideas never died, because an idea exists intangibly, yet co-exists with reality. By the Overseer's hands or his, James was promised to die, all Lyle needed was a reason to pull the trigger early, just _one_ reason. "I'm getting out of here Windlaw." Lyle announced blandly. The mutant laughed harshly. "How do you suppose that young one, not with that collar around your neck."

"I'm going to win Freedom Fight for Debris and then demand my freedom." he claimed. His experience verses his success, his chances of winning was very slim. Windlaw didn't mock Lyle's ambition by laughing harshly, but his silence offended him a little. Lyle's stubbornness, a wonderful trait fro his mother, caused him to think unclearly when he set his heart on something. All he knew was what he wanted and there wasn't any detours off his narrow minded road. Windlaw saw right through Lyle "Is there something you need to do?" he questioned, his voice loudly announced their conversation to the public, despite the fact he attempted to whisper. He didn't want to get into the details, but Lyle just gave him a nod for an answer.

"Well, my friend, I wish you the best of luck." Windlaw said walking off into the crowd of people. Lyle could still see his green bald head peak several feet above the normal public's line of sight. He went his opposite way to take his newly bought goods home. Once he walked through the door Debris demanded her share of supplies. Lyle gave her the bag and she snatched it from his grasp. He watched a she poked through taking the psycho out, implying it was his. She desired the neat bag, she was too lazy to take it all out and organize it, though it was doubtful all that stuff would last two days. Her fingers wrapped around the neck of the scotch bottle and she slowly took it out of the bag.

"You spent my caps on scotch?" she asked, her tone was rather repulsive. Lyle was already holding out her small leather caps bag, his green eyes looking rather pleadingly at her. She gently set the bottle down on the table next to the worn couch, at least she didn't throw it against the wall. He prepared his nerves as she stood up, leaving the bag on the cushion as she approached him, swiping the bag from his fingers. Her expression emitted displeasure in his actions and he knew that called for a beating. She reached into her back pocket and gingerly pulled out a set of brass knuckles. Lyle winced at the sight of the metal, he could already feel his body welt with bruises.

"Never spend my caps on your shit! You _need_ to know these things!" she yelled loudly, nothing compared to the 'normal' volume of Windlaw's voice. She brought her fist back, clutching the knuckles. _You need to know these things_.

_I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever._

It was like he could hear his father's voice in his head instead of Debris' screams. Lyle's green eyes shifted to look at the fist slowly moving towards his face, his mind was reacting. He could hear his own voice in his head: _Are you sick or something? Or perhaps going away? _His fingers wrapped tightly around her thin wrist. He stepped beside her, using his free hand to push her back. She went face first into the door, her cheek pressing against the wood panel. Taking her arm with his free hand, he pinned her to the door.

_No._

"Now you listen to me!" he demanded taking her arm and twisting it behind her back, painful enough, but nothing that could break. She breathed heavily with her pressured lungs, attempting to spit with disrespect, but ended up salivating on the door. "I'm going to go to Freedom Fight tomorrow, I am going to _win_ and we're going to do it the traditional way. I get my freedom and you get your god damn caps!" he roared back. "And keep your mother fucking hands off of me!" his grip on her arm tightened and she yelped from the sharp pain in her shoulder. He let her go within an instant and back away from the door. The conversation wasn't going to continue as he took the psycho and scotch, disappearing into his closet. Debris rubbed her fingers over her wrists, working out the strain in her shoulder to sooth the pain.

"I want to change the rules today." Debris demanded dropping a heavy bag of caps into the desk of the Freedom Fight manager. The man looked at the money bag then at her. "Debris you know better than that, I can't cha-" he was cut off as Debris interrupted. "You owe me this, Aaron. It isn't to win." she insisted. His brow arched with curiosity. "Debris trying to bribe me and her catch isn't winning? Intriguing." he spoke with awe as he took the money bag. "You have my attention, Enlighten me." his voice spoke with such elegance, it was astonishing that he was considered a raider. He neatly folded his hands under his chin as he gave her his full undivided attention.

"My slave attacked me last night. He claimed he's going to win, I get the caps he gets freedom." she explained. "And you don't want him to win." Aaron attempted to solve her goal. "Don't be a moron! Of course I want him to win, but I'm going to make him bleed for it." she growled. Aaron could sense a grudge looming over this transaction, but he was enthralled with the idea, more entertainment and he was all about appeasing the audience. "So what is it you desire?" he asked. Debris slammed her palms down on the desk, leaning towards Aaron's face. "I want a blind-cell match, owner motivation and I want it rigged so he has to fight…." her eyes briefly looked down at the contenders diagram on Aaron's desk. She spotted the meanest looking photo on the chart and stabbed her index on the picture. "Him."

* * *

The cell Debris brought him to was very different than the first. It had solid metal walls that blocked all light, it was so dark he couldn't see his own hands. His hand trembled as he felt the walls, attempting to find a window or door, but the shadow blinded him. He felt like he was cooking alive in there it was so hot, but that was the least of his worries. Confinement in seclusion do things to a human being's mind. Debris wanted to make Lyle suffer, the blind cell had more than just darkness and confinement. The blind cell was invented to put the contenders into a berserk-like state before being released onto the field, it enhanced entertainment, but also put the audience and the owner in danger, so the blind cell was taken out of service.

The design of it was to drive sane man mad and a mad man sane. An electrical current sounded in the dark, like it was slithering with metal scales along the wall. He looked around wildly, but he couldn't locate it or see any light. _Over Here_. James' voice sounded right beside him and he spun around to look, but there was no one there. "James!" Lyle yelled out, his voice bouncing around the strange room. He disowned the title father completely when referring to James, it was insulting to be formal. _I'm not going to be around forever. You need to know these things. I'm very disappointed in you. How could you do such a thing? _James' voice filled the room, overlapping statements, like a choir sang. Not only did they speak over each other, they came from different corners of the room, various volumes and tones.

Lyle placed his hands over his head, attempting to cover his ears from the voices, but they still bled through his flesh. He grit his teeth trying to mute the words whispering from the shadow. _Lyle, you need to get out of here_. A woman sulked within the sea of James' voice. He removed his palms, curling his fingers into fists as he looked around, still not being able to see. That voice, he knew it. All the other statements lowered to mere whispers as his mind focused on locating the one woman. _Promise me you'll come back_. Her voice sounded again. "Amata?" Lyle questioned loudly. The commotion ceased as the ceiling broke apart, light poured in, illuminating the cell. It was just another metal square, like the cell he was in last round. There weren't even speakers or people, it was all in his head.

The mystery to the electrical noise was solve instantly as the room unfolded to reveal Debris holding a metal rod sparking with live current at the sharp tip. He had to fight her? This was definitely a different round. She jabbed the spear at him, shocking him off the platform. Lyle couldn't be fighting her, it wouldn't make any sense, she'd die from the Iron Maiden, which she tossed at his feet. Slowly he picked it up, placing it over his hand, keeping his eyes on her. Something seemed rather sinister about this fight, she _had_ to be behind it. _Where are you going? Turn Around. Over Here._ He could still hear James, he didn't understand why he could actually hear his father speaking, when he clearly wasn't there.

Lyle kept looking around as though they were really there. The crowd roared with excitement, observing that he was a little tweaked. The other brown metal cage began to bloom open, exposing the large green giant he befriended during his stay in Clifftop. _What in God's name is wrong with you! Stop screwing around!_ again James' voice fluttered through Lyle's ears. Windlaw was released and given a large rectangular shield, by his owner, who was equipped with a spark rod as well. It wasn't some sort of sick joke, Debris really wanted to see pain. In order to win he had to kill Windlaw, which wasn't something he wanted to do. His lips parted as his eyes settled on the mutant, he could tell Windlaw was feeling the same way.

His side numbed as Debris poked him with the rod, sending a small volt through his body. _Kill them._ James' voice commanded. Since when would James ever ask Lyle to kill people? Something was wrong with that room he was in, terribly wrong and it still germinated in Lyle's brain. He wasn't going to fight, he wasn't going to kill either. His green eyes focused on Windlaw who was approaching him slowly with his shield. "I'm not fighting you." he told the giant, taking off his glove and throwing it onto the ground. His gaze lowered to the dirt floor, he could still hear Windlaw approaching, but he couldn't bare to watch his possible fate.

"You are going to get out of here." Windlaw announced in his loud booming voice. The giant turned around to his owner and smashed the shield onto his body, crushing his master before everyone's eyes. The audience gasped with shock at the morbid terror. Debris yelled "No!" she stabbed the edge into Lyle's rib cage, sending live droplets of blood over the floor. Windlaw pivoted from his crushed master and bashed both of his fists onto the ground, shaking it so Debris lost her balance and fell onto her back. Lyle as well stumbled, but the loose end of the rod hit the ground, piercing his flesh under his ribs. He sent a yelp of pain out of his lungs. The crowd roared with enthusiasm, enjoying the twist to this match.

"He is my slave!" she cried, before she could get up Windlaw was already standing above her with his shield raised, about to smash her like his owner. She brought her arms over her face, attempting to guard herself from her doom, but Windlaw slammed the metal rectangle down. Debris thought she was going to die, but she opened her dark eyes to see her forearms over her face. She wasn't dead, _yet_. A light thud of an empty psycho syringe dropped next to her head. Terrified, she dared to remove her arms from her line of sight. Her ghastly expression changed to shock as her pink lips gaped open. "Why would you?" she managed to whisper, her voice trembling with fear.

Her dark eyes examined Lyle standing over her, with his back supporting his arm's struggle to hold up the shield. His face distorted with intensive aggravation as his muscles began to burn and his back sent waves of pain throughout his entire body. A stream of blood began to drip from the corner of his mouth, sputtering down his chin when he coughed, losing all the air in his lungs. He prevented her death, even though it would have been easier on his own life to take hers away. Aaron pushed through the frenzied crowd, reaching the edge of the spectator's rail. "Take everyone out of there, _NOW_." He ordered security as they moved quickly.

* * *

Lyle sat behind Aaron's desk, watching the man sign papers with caps distribution for the fight's gamblers. He occasionally looked up at Lyle for brief moments before continuing his work. Finally, after a long strained silence Aaron spoke. "You're unique Lyle, probably one of the most original individual I've seen pass through this competition. You have the patience of a lion, waiting to catch its prey, cunning, strength and bravery." he let go of the pencil, letting it roll over the earnings clipboard on his desk. "You had a chance for freedom through death and you denied it, yet you're violent enough to attack your owner outside the ring?" he shook his head slightly, he couldn't even fathom Lyle's method of thinking.

"You've even sustained Malleus' experiment." his fingers toyed with a globe set on his desk, his eyes glued on Lyle's face. There was no response from the slave, ever since the incident in the ring, he fell into silence and his green eyes stared into space. _Son, I brought you into this world, I think you know the rest._ He could still hear the voices in his head, but they were lower, slowly decreasing to muffled tones. Aaron folded his arms over the desk and leaned into his hands. "You're not the only one who came from a Vault, Lyle." The boy shifted his eyes to look at the corner of the man's desk. "A lot of the founders of Clifftop were from the nearby Vault 92. Throw in a little bit of banned raiders from the Mojave that came with the Brotherhood and you had the city we now reside in. It didn't take a genius to make this society, it took a leader."

He moved his body comfortably towards the back of his chair. "Vault 92 was crumbling, many of the residents had to escape the crazed, brainwashed citizens. Using, white noise to deliver subliminal messaging to a few select individuals. The Overseer desired to create a super soldier, evil, grew. Few made it out, locking the Vault door behind them, letting the rest kill themselves. Years after the establishment of Clifftop, a trade agreement was settled with the scum from The Pitt. It was a beautiful source of many and slaves, but most of all, with them they brought the first concept of Freedom Fight. Just slaves competed for their freedom, the winning slave got to walk home free. I became the devil and suggested that the rules be changed, it was for the blood and the gamble, like a sport to watch more than a meaningful battle."

His fingers gently smoothed over a sack of caps beside his chair, he seemed rather pleased with his riches. "When the stadium was first built, by people before me. They wanted something that would enhance the results, they wanted freedom really worth killing for. In Vault 92, Proffessor Malleus was the man who researched white noise. Imagine the capabilities of a ruler when he had so much power over his subjects with subliminal messaging! Every cell we had was a 'blind cell', delivering messages of slaughter and torture to the competitors. The white noise triggered something else, as though it sparked delusions and hearing voices. Malleus described side effects as Schizophrenia, hence why the blind cells were disbanded."

Lyle didn't respond, he kept looking at the corner. "The voices inside your head won't last long Lyle. You weren't exposed long enough for any permanent damage." Aaron explained. "The reason I've called you here and told you about the founders of Clifftop is because they changed the world for a lot of people in the Wasteland." he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small silver key. "If I let Debris keep you in slavery, I may be signing away a man who will bring change." he got up and walked around, placing the key in the collar at the back of Lyle's neck. "I have accurate feelings Lyle and my gut is telling me that I should let you go." he turned the key and the collar snapped off.

* * *

Joseph stood up from the large wooden desk, gently smiling at the few of his staff that chose to stay out of a vault. "Ladies and Gentlemen." he addressed his company. "It's been an honor attending America's needs in this office with you for the last three years. I am proud to spend my ending moments with you as the last President of the United States." he closed his mouth and smiled briefly. All of them were breathing shallow, their heart beating slowly. As the walls elapsed with fire, thirteen screams sounded shortly, then darkness shattered the symbol of leadership.


	10. Chapter 9: Dreams, Give Me A Break

_After two months of harsh slavery by a woman named Debris. I didn't want to know where she came from or how she got into this business, nor do I ever want to come back to this. It wasn't even compassion that set me free. Aaron, the Freedom Fight master felt like it was some sort of duty. I have slight respect for the man, he has an eye for potential. I think a part of him saw my destiny to capture James and make him pay for the treachery he committed. It takes more than just a plea for someone to act like Aaron. I've gathered the few belongings I still have and I'll be heading to Smith Casey's Garage to complete __**my**__ plan. It's going to take me two weeks to get there, so I'm gathering supplies. I located an old canteen from an Odds n' Ends' vendor, she sold it cheap, so now I have a source of water. _

Lyle looked up from his pip-boy, watching a few roamers pass him on the late night street. All the stalls were closed and the streets of Clifftop desolate. The bar was still open so a few drunks wandered by on their way home. He gently bit his lower lip, his wrist machine was still recording.

_I've had so many near death experiences, I don't know how much longer I'll last out here. If I'll even be able to locate my father. Perhaps, if I do, never make it back. Tell Amata I miss her._

He stopped recording and hit sent. Windlaw sat next to him, they both sat on the ledge of a window, inside there were clothing waiting to be bought. There were barely any lights on at night in Clifftop, it was near blindness on the street. Since both of the lacked masters, they were both homeless, but Lyle didn't plan on staying long anyway. "So, Friend, where do you plan on going?" He asked looking up at the green giant. Windlaw chuckled "I am too big for most towns. I'll probably return to my vault and lock myself up like Fawkes." he stated. A smile spread across Lyle's chin. "Did you ever think maybe you're not too big? Maybe this town's just too small?"

Windlaw let a giant laugh escape his mouth, harshly straining Lyle's ears. Something else was on the mutant's mind. "Why did you save your master?" he inquired, for once his voice was in a low tone. Lyle really had to think about it, considering it was just a rushed decision, but he knew exactly why as twisted of a reason as it was. "Her and I are the same. She's just further down the road." he said. Windlaw's face distorted to a frown, obviously the giant didn't understand. It was the look in her eyes that distinctly informed Lyle they were alike. There was that underlying hatred swelling behind the curtain of lovely, intense color. Debris had a grudge against someone and she was the result of what happens to a victim of a force that tears human beings apart.

"I pitied her." he clarified. That was the truth, he sympathized with the woman then took pity on her. If it were any other person he would have let Windlaw crush them into jelly, but hatred breeds. The reason Lyle gave was good enough for the mutant as he shook his head, wandering into his own line of thought. "Why don't you come with me Windlaw? As far as I know there isn't a settlement at Smith Casey's, it'll be our own slice of heaven." the giant's expression lightened with enthusiasm. They both proceeded to the large elevator at the end of the street.

**Previously….**

Debris lay on the floor of her home, thrown to the ground by her previous slave. Lyle's fingers let go of the thick collar as it plopped to the ground in front of her and he threw down a sack with two thousand caps. "Aaron gave you these to compensate for you loss. I am not yours anymore." he said bitterly. His tone was disgusted with her, he despised her. He walked for the door and grabbed the handle. "Lyle!" she pleaded, her mouth gaping open like a suffocating fish. It wasn't a mistake to stop at the door; she told him _everything_.

**Present…**

Lyle watched the elevator doors slide shut and lifted the metal box into the air. Lights flashed by open slot in the wall, but his eyes kept looking up, waiting for the elevator to breach the surface. Debris, who's parents originally named her Anna was orphaned by a super mutant attack at the age five. She stayed in a settlement called Little Lamplight, which had only children. Her name was changed to Debris, due to the fact she constantly blew things up, creating rubble. At thirteen everyone from Lamplight has to go to Big Town, where they continue their lives as adults. On her way there she, herself was enslaved, except she wasn't forced to fight and brutalize, but she was a sex slave, abused by her master daily. Finally, years later she killed the man in his sleep. Even though she was freed from her horror she harbored her hatred for years, taking it out on every slave she owned.

The metal square came to a stop and opened up to the wasteland. A part of Lyle died when he saw the dark sky, he spent months lingering in darkness, he wanted the sun. He couldn't even predict how long Windlaw had been underground. His expression lightened as he saw a silver line trotting to him. "Buddy?" he questioned squatting down and spreading his arms out for the rodent. The runt mole rat climbed onto his knee, wagging its bald stump of a tail. Something inside Lyle seemed particularly joyous, he had the luxury knowing that there was at least one life form loyal to him. He stood, holding the creature on his arm like a football. The runt waited and survived two months for Lyle to return, If only James had similar attributes.

He looked at his pip-boy and pointed to the south-west. "If he head directly that way in a straight line, we should avoid all populated areas, as well as abandoned establishments." he explained to Windlaw. "Considering we don't have any heavy weaponry, we'll have to avoid as many conflicts as possible." The green giant nodded in agreement to the man's statement. A mutant had strength, a winning fighter against any human, but there were some creatures in the waste that were able to out-do Windlaw.

* * *

**Two Weeks Later….**

Lyle's green eyes settled on a rocket piercing the horizon, next to it branded an old sign 'Smith Casey's Garage'. From now until the end it was Lyle's new home, away from the sick world, but close enough to civilization to trade. Windlaw inquired why Lyle chose a garage out of all places, the only response the giant got was, _you'll see_. A smile crept across Lyle's thin chin as his green eyes looked at the sign still intact above the garage. "Come on Windlaw, let's clean this place out." he suggested walking for the front door. He entered the door and peered around the waiting room, littering bottles strewn about the floor and counter. Someone did choose to live here, years ago, the bones were still settled on the only mattress in the building.

Fortunately, they had supplies to live off of, a full Nuka-Cola vending machine and stocked fridge with fresh game. A safe full of caps and weaponry would ease their other troubles as well. Smith Casey's turned out to be a good place to stay. "We'll have to clean this place up, then go to Girdershade and see what we need." Lyle stated walking into the next room. His eyes settled on a dismantled car, like the one he saw near Megaton, but his eyes feasted on an even better beauty. Two motorcycles, perfectly intact displayed in the garage, he had never seen a machine that looked so magnificent in his life. This was his ticket to an easier way of life.

Windlaw wandered in after him, peering around for something significant that justified Lyle's ambition to be here. "What is it we're looking for?" the giant questioned in a loud tone. Lyle reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of folded papers he held them up to the car unfolding them to show Windlaw sketches of different designs. "I'm going to build one, but a better one." he spoke fondly. Over the course of Lyle's slavery he learned a lot through observation and clear listening skills. He knew a lot about robots from the mechanic in Clifftop, Lyle went to his shop as much as possible when buying things for Debris. He'd watch the man do his work, sometimes he had the nerve to inquire the man, but he was never denied an answer. Everyone in Clifftop tuned their radios to the Enclave, ironic because they were the very harlots he mocked so passionately. President Eden had a very persuasive argument though, half the time Lyle found himself agreeing with the man, even though he didn't understand half of the things he spoke about.

It was convincing because he spoke of beauty and happiness with the lack there of. The radio broadcast bashed every species Lyle found pleasant, yet Eden seemed like a trustworthy guy. Lyle was naive, he wasn't aware of the corruption of politicians. A lot of his questions were answered and he felt smarter, braver and better. In his opinion a better man James could ever be. He did a fair share of murder, but in the end it benefited. His green eyes switched from the design to the motorcycle, he wanted to build on of those more than the car. It was all plotted out in his head, he'd replace the wheels with the hover mechanism in the Mr. Handy models, convert a fuel line with a fission battery power source and slice the frame in half, to make the vehicle sleeker. He had most of the tools and parts in the garage already, the only thing he'd really need was two intact Mr. Handys, or Gusty, whichever they found. The hover mechanism came from Andy, James' personal assistant in Vault 101, no other robot floated in the air like that. They could overcome bumpy terrain without difficulty, that's exactly what was needed in an automotive.

* * *

Windlaw and Lyle cleaned out the entire garage, putting all the bottles in a dumpster behind the building and making a spare parts pile outside underneath the rocket. They replaced the steel shade doors, but it created an easy access point so Lyle invested heavily into security by installing traps. Finding two scrap Mr. Handys wasn't difficult, turns out a lot of the trader caravans that got to Girdershade were cleaned out of all weaponry and first aid, but supplied in bulk with robot parts. It was trial and error, there were two bikes, so one was to experiment and the other was a final project. Lyle was always hard at work from sun up to sun down and Windlaw had to take onto the duties of keeping them supplied with food. He went out hunting in the wastes, bringing back anything he killed, _except_ Lyle had banned mole rat from the menu.

He didn't sleep too much anymore, turns out most of the time he just had nightmares. It took him months to finally figure it out, but he did it. Finding the perfect balance between hover and propulsion to make the vehicle move. The sleek frame made navigation easy and it could go over piles of rubble or rocky terrain. Months of work and dedication, it consumed him. All that effort just to make it easier to find James. Lyle was already possessed by his rage and he didn't even realize it. "Windlaw!" Lyle called, smoothing his hand over the surface of his creation. The giant came glomping through the door, holding the puny rodent in his hand. Windlaw became a fan of Buddy, just as much as Lyle had. "I'm going to take it out, for its first run." he announced. Windlaw knew the deal, one person had to be at the garage at all times, to guard it from scavengers or the worse dangers of the wasteland, raiders and slavers.

Lyle turned around and rolled open the garage door, revealing the auburn sky from the sun nearly setting. It looked like the atmosphere set on fire, gleaming colors across the heavens. Sun down was the perfect time to go out, it was easier for people to spot him in daylight. What Lyle created needed to stay a secret until it was truly finished. He was already unaware of the forces he stirred to work, forces James evaded until now. The wasteland needed two brilliant men, America needed two brilliant men, _the enclave_ needed two brilliant men. President Eden ranted on about America needed to be rebuilt and how they were working constantly to do so, but they were already hard at work finding the minds who would do the job accurately. Everyone kept telling Lyle is wasn't a genius who built a society, it was a leader, but they failed to include the part that a leader has a bunch of genius' to back him up.

He placed biker goggles over his eyes and mounted the floating bike. "I'm just going to go towards Girdershade and then I'll turn right back, don't get into any trouble." he told Windlaw. His finger clutched the handles and gripped the boost bars. The vehicle shot forward, blasting through the garage, weaving air through his hair and around his face. At first the rush was too much for Lyle to handle, but he got a hold of his nerve and directed the bike the way he desired. A walk to Girdershade, which took half an hour cut down to five minutes with his machine. His 'test run' was going to be a bit longer than he had implied. He slowly down before Sierra's shack, getting off the bike and hiding it behind an iron wall.

A trader sold him a leather bag, equivalent to a lap top case and he loved it dearly. His hand reached inside and pulled out a bottle of glowing blue liquid. It emitted a low light, but bright enough to illuminate his path to her door. It was never a lie, when Lyle told himself he loved Amata, but unfortunately, he was a man and a man had his needs. Just like Susie Mack he chose the witless to be his prey, a guilt free pass for sex without the actual commitment of a relationship, in a mild, sweet sense, he saved his heart for Amata. In this case he had Sierra trained well, which drove Ron crazy. He entered the Nuka-Cola infested abode and Sierra was already at his side to greet him. "Ah Lyle!" her eyes shifted over to the glowing bottle in his hand. "You brought some more!" Sierra was convinced Quantum was impossible to find, except Lyle just kept bringing one from the stash in his vending machine.

He lifted the bottle into the air, his height plus his arm's reach was _way_ too high for her to get. "Ah ut Ah." he cautioned. "You know the drill." he teased dangling the bottle above her head. The woman bit her lower lip slightly and then went on her toes to gently peck his cheek. That was the most he ever got from her, otherwise she was too addicted to Nuka-Cola to give him more than two cents. His fingers loosened around the neck of the bottle and it plopped into her reaching hands. As much as he desired it, there was no such thing as sex with Sierra of Girdershade. Lyle considered himself victorious because h was able to get a kiss every time he brought that blue shit to her, but in the end, Ron and he sulked in the same sinking boat. Deep down, he didn't care, as much as he hated to admit it. All he really cared about was getting back at Ron, Lyle had a thing for _wanting_ to get on people's nerves, see how far they could be pushed before going over the edge.

"Sierra, how would you like some Nuka-Cola Victory, or Quartz?" he questioned. His vending machine seemed to be special, like it was stocked uniquely, he found on the broken terminal that Smith Casey's owner was cousins with the main manufacturer of Nuka-Cola in the country, not that state. Lyle found an entry to his cousin about how much people paid for proto-types when they were getting their cars fixed. She perked up immediately and eyed him with large curious eyes. "Yeah, that's right, they glow red and yellowish….green." he spoke in a haunted tone, like telling a child a ghost story. Her face lit up and she gasped. "There's only two things you need to get my only two bottles!" he announced, making his voice sound exciting. Of course he had more than two, but why give up all of his resources in one shot? "What?" she questioned innocently.

* * *

Lyle jumped on the bed, up and down with Sierra right next to him. He was making her work up a sweat. "Remember what I told you." he ordered as she nodded. "YES! YES!" she screamed "HARDER!" Lyle officially labeled himself as a genius. For all she knew they were just jumping on the bed having a blast. He let them go for a good fifteen minutes, which ought to have brought Ron to attention. After a few more moments he hopped off, helping Sierra off the bed. "Now the second part, if he asks ANYTHING, anything at all, just say 'A girl doesn't kiss and tell'." Lyle explained. He took his t-shirt off and gently pecked the woman's forehead, a part of him adored her for her innocence, how could he take that away?

The night air bit at his bare chest as he walked out into the wasteland, to his left stood Ron, his mouth gaping open, but his eyes filled with jealousy. A perfect moment, to show a snide smirk and put his shirt back on. The moon illuminated the beads of sweat on the back of his neck, he looked just as he hoped Ron would interpret.

He winked at the man before circling around the shack to hop on his bike and race back for Smith Casey's. The first time blasting off was a little shocking, but the second ride home was rather enjoyable, for the short period of time it took to get there. His body adjusted to the powerful winds pushing past his flesh, but he loved the sensation it sent through his spine, he admired the power. The machine hovered slowly into the garage and once it stopped Lyle got off, making sure the garage door was sealed before doing anything else. Something felt strange about the desolate building, that was exactly it, the place was _empty_. "Windlaw?" Lyle beckoned, peeling his goggles off of his head. There was no response, Buddy didn't even come crawling up or anything. His green eyes surveyed the garage and he noticed a part of the floor in the back was suddenly missing. "Windlaw? Buddy?" Lyle called again slowly approaching the open hatch.

The open hatch revealed a staircase going under Smith Casey's, he didn't open it, he didn't know how it was opened, but there it was. Slowly, he set his foot down each step. "Windlaw?" he repeatedly called into the eerie corridor. He held up his fists, ready to hit anything that came out at him, it was so strange, what was this place? It took him forever to get to the end of the stair, where a door was ajar, someone went through here. He hopped through the open frame, holding up his fists for any ambush, none, so he continued on through what looked like Smith Casey's generator room. A low raspy garble echoed from down another grate staircase. Lyle ran down quickly "Buddy?" he called running through another open door down a blue lit hall. His tiny mole rat scratched at a closed door, hissing and wailing at the foot.

"What is it Buddy?" Lyle questioned as he picked the rodent up. "Did Windlaw go in there and leave you out?" he asked. Windlaw wasn't even supposed to be down here, as well as leaving Buddy alone and the garage unattended. Every rule was broken and Windlaw was going to get sternly spoken to. It was even more aggravating that the giant was ignoring Lyle's calls. He reached for the center of the steel door and turned the knob. Many gears turned and bars pulled as the door eased open exposing something, Lyle did not fondly see. He nearly dropped Buddy from shock as his green eyes stared at the large vault door. His lips quivered as he mouth '_112_' with his lips, reading the gold engraved numbers. It was another vault, he knew there were still tons of vaults out there, other than 101, but he never expected to find them. They were all cleverly hidden or impossible to enter. It was meant to be that way, Vaults kept their citizens safe but doomed the outside world. Outside Vault 101's door there were protest signs from dead people who wanted to get in, claiming the vault citizens were assholes and motherfuckers for denying entry.

There could be a whole civilization behind that door, or it could be like Windlaw's vault, invaded by the outside and torn apart within. The entire time Lyle debated with himself, he realized that curiosity forced him to draw closer. When he fathomed reality, he noticed he was already standing before the panel that opened the vault door. His fingers reached for the large button that initiated the release of the vault door. There could be a password and he'd never have to worry about the door again, but his palm pressed the button down and flashing yellow lights flooded the hall. A loud clanging noise sounded throughout the small space, scratching Lyle's hearing as the vault door slid back and rolled to the side of the frame. So far, he was safe. He set down the rodent "Stay safe, until I call you." he ordered, gently patting Buddy's rump. The rodent scurried off somewhere in the vault's vents, but so far Lyle's orders haven't failed so there was no worry.

Another hall with open doors separated him and a brain robot. His muscles stiffened as he saw it, he was so close to it he couldn't just turn and run. "_Please sir, put on your Vault 112 jumpsuit and proceed._" it held out a folded jumpsuit for Lyle to put on. If that's all it took to avoid conflict, then he'd put it on. Behind the door in the empty hall he exchanged his clothing, folding his merc grunt outfit and setting on top of a storage crate there. He re-entered and the robo paid no attention to him so he casually walked through another doorway. Something was strange about this Vault, there were no cells, no signs, not even a bathroom. He looked over his shoulder at another robot rolling by. Was it a vault for robots? Na, humanity couldn't be that stupid. They had windows though, similar to his and he looked through. There was a gigantic stem from floor to ceiling in the center of a large room, with pods sprinkled across the floor.

This was only the first level and Vaults held usually a hundred people, maybe more. He squinted his eyes and looked at the pods, there were people inside, they were staring blankly at televisions. All those people, everyone in this vault was in one of those pods. In one of the pods there was an unusually large human, wait, that wasn't a human. "Windlaw!" Lyle yelled, running down the hall for the nearest staircase. He entered the room full of pods, passing each one to find Windlaw's prison. "Windlaw!" he screamed, banging harshly on the glass. It had to be made of break proof glass, it felt indestructible. Lyle was panicking, he knew it as his lungs gasped for more air rapidly. Windlaw was stuck in an unknown machine, perhaps he was dying or already dead. Lyle browsed around for anything that could be of use, there was a wrench near and empty pod, so he ran and retrieved it.

As his hit the pod with the wrench it echoed loudly in the room, drawing the attention of the robots. One rolled out from behind Windlaw's pod. "_Sir, Please calm down and enter your pod._" it ordered in a calm, relaxing voice. "You mother fuckers! What are you doing to him! Let him go!" Lyle demanded, throwing the wrench at the robot. He looked at the control panel and tapped the 'open' button, but nothing happened. Frustrated, he started to kick the hinges, but it didn't last long as a blue waved blew past his head. Lyle's brain suddenly felt numb as though it detached from his body and left his mind senseless. He let out a small laugh, but his voice sounded distorted, slowed down like he was some sort of imbecile.

The robot clutched his collar with its pinchers and it dragged him around to an empty cell, there was nothing he could do to fight it. Lyle could think perfectly clear, but his body wasn't responding, nor was his voice. His body was placed into the chair and the pod closed on him. A television flipped its screen towards him, numbers counting down. Was that it? Lyle's mind was a little eased if all he had to do was sit and watch a television, but to his surprise sharp pain blasted through his senses as four needles pierced his head. He could feel the metal sting his brain and his eyes flared widely open to gape at the screen. All Lyle could remember of the real world was the pain and the sudden fall to darkness.

* * *

**Hey guys! It's me again, the author XD I've obviously taken some daring jumps in twists for this story, but we're getting to the point now, James is so close! Let me know what you guys think of some of the major twists that have been written so far. On another note, I WILL refer Mojave a lot because I DO plan on writing a sequel. It may not have Lyle directly, but of course it will tie into the little story I have going here. Glad you're enjoying the story so far! I love reading reviews, they keep me motivated, so please review! Stay tuned for chapter ten and a possible Christmas special, which will be a spin-off, nothing plot related.**


	11. Chapter 10: Bit by Bit, Torn Apart

All he could hear in the utter darkness were whispers, then the loud flood of shrill screams. They ravenously echoed in the darkness of his mind. Each solemn voice burned through every fiber of his being, until they all simultaneously faded due to his wake. Lyle's green eyes shot open from what could be deemed a nightmare. His sight trailed along the ceiling, which was a dull gray color. At the seams where the wall met the ceiling there were bolts, giving it a very steel-like appearance. The walls were that same faded yellow he grew up with, but wait, that was impossible. Lyle sat up in his bed and looked around the room, eying everything that seemed to be untouched. It was his room, in his vault and he left it awhile ago. He took a deep breath and looked to his bed, the same sheet, but a different size. It was a lot bigger and this time another body accompanied him. Was it all just a terrible dream? That's what he got for sleeping with Susie, a shit ton of nightmares. He frowned slightly, when examining the dark hair of his sleeping partner. Susie Mack was blonde. Lyle leaned over trying not to disrupt her, but attempted to get a good look at her face. It was in fact someone from home, but the person he least expected. Amata was sound asleep next to him, which that in itself was a paradox.

Amata was the one woman Lyle couldn't have, which made her all the more desirable. Ata point his desire may have even turned to strong affection. Here she was right next to him and he didn't even have the single thought to celebrate. Where was he? What was this place? It looked identical to the Vault, but Lyle's brilliant mind knew better. He couldn't just wake up here unless it was all just a dream. Everything on both ends of the spectrum felt real, seemed real and by all means could be mistaken as real. The question now was, which reality did Lyle favor? If the Wasteland was really just a dream, then did that mean his father was still in the Vault as well? Or was Lyle labeled son of a traitor and tried to live in the vault as one. There were so many theories rolling through his head and none could be proven by sitting in his bed. Lyle slipped out from underneath the covers, leaving the sleeping beauty to her own dream world. The texture of the sheets felt so real, even the stagnant air of the vault felt real. His heart beat, down to the sparks of life in his nerves all felt very real. He entered the small side bathroom and flicked the lights on. The bulbs blared on to reveal Lyle's true face. His expression softened as his green eyes settled in the mirror,. The structure was all the same, but the beard and fading red hair strictly looked identical to James.

His hand raised, shaking, to gently place his finger tips on the glass. The cold reflective surface tingled his nerves, but the image that stared back was something he didn't want to endure. Lyle could stand in front of a mirror and attempt to count to ten. He'd fail of course because he couldn't stand his own company. From he time he was little Lyle never made the best choices, but that didn't mean he didn't regret or strive for better. At this point, it just never seemed like he'd be a hero or a good man like everyone claimed his father to be. Lyle's green eyes stared at himself darkly. What was he doing? All of his life, he wanted to make right with his father, he wanted to be just as good or even better of a man than James, yet he stood here in this mess because he desired to kill the very man he held the highest respect for. All because the poison betrayal instills in a person. It's a germinating parasite that feeds off of every fear and every regret. His fingers clasped against the glass until he curled them into a fist, gently hitting the mirror silently. _Seven_. All of his wandering in he wasteland, was all because he wanted to kill the _one_ person that meant anything to him. Not even Amata could replace the love Lyle always ha for his father, yet here he was on a mission to kill the man. _Six_. Was Lyle raised in that fashion? Was Lyle raised by a man with a death wish?

_Five._

Lyle could feel his intestines tie up in his throat and he turned away from the mirror, lowering his hand to his side. Where was he? What was this place? It was so cruel to magnify everything he kept locked away in his mind; the desire and fear to be his father, Amata sleeping next to him in his bed. This couldn't be real, yet everything told different. Even the way his heart beat inside of his chest was realistic beyond fabrication. He emerged from the bathroom and stood in the doorway, surveying the bed across the room. Amata was really there and that's really where he woke up, but where was here? It looked like home, well the Vault. The faded painted walls to hide the metal barriers. It was identical, even down to the toxic smell of mold. He didn't ever really notice how stagnant the air was compared to the wasteland, but with all the irradiation, he didn't know what was the greater of both evils. It was everything Lyle could desire in the back of his mind, but he didn't know if he should accept it or trust it. Months ago if someone offered him a sticky bun he'd be al over that with his naïve mind, but after being tossed around in the Wasteland, there was really nothing he could trust anymore. Unfortunately, Lyle learned what real human society was, the flaws of it when something didn't go completely perfect. The vaults were easy to maintain a civilized society, but outside where there was no overseer, no officer Kendalls to keep order, it was utter chaos. The strange part about it, was that the disorder and adventure thrilled Lyle. Amata would never understand him, even if she did lay in his bed. Amata was too cookie cutter, in the black and white shade. Lyle loved coloring outside the lines. In a lot of ways Amata's authorities mentality reminded him a lot of his father; which was an attribute that Lyle didn't favor in the man. So thick skulled for order, what was right, but then again Lyle under estimated his old man. James was in fact the man who started this all. No matter what angle Lyle put it, James was always his creator. Biologically, of course, but he created the boy and the monster. It was confusing enough to decide whether to blame James for leaving or thanking him for releasing the true Lyle. Who would he have been in the vault? If everything was as it _should _be, what would happened? He'd spend the rest of his life wishing for more and die as a sanitation officer. That was definitely not the way he wanted to have his life end. Now, well previously, he had freedom to govern himself, even in his slavery, he gained new experience. Debris, like him, was just misunderstood. Lyle appeared a certain way to people, but if they took the time to look at him at another angle, just maybe they'd see the reasoning to his struggle. Not that he personally wanted everyone to know his life story.

_Didn't make past five._

Now that he reviewed everything because the image of his father staring back at him unsettled thoughts in his mind. It still didn't solve where he was and why he was even there. He officially left the bathroom and opened the closet, inside were suits he never thought he'd see again. **101** printed on the back between the shoulders and the tacky colors sewn together. His hand reached in the felt the seam of the denim fabric. What made him special? Why was he locked up and hidden away when people like Sierra and Windlaw had to suffer the cruelty of the Wasteland. Windlaw could at least fend for himself, but Sierra, that sweet woman had nothing but a sleaze ball to protect her. Why did Lyle even care? He liked sleeping with girls, let's not get hypocritical. Just something about her, seemed _off_ now that he thought about it. No way in hell could a woman _that naive_ survive in the Wasteland and he doubted Ron was there from day one. Lyle was stuck here, why would he even be giving a fuck about the residents of Girdershade? The more the thought about his life, the more this place lost reality. It felt fake, it felt like something as wrong with it. It was a convincing scenario, but the first sight of Amata in his bed was the first red flag and just yesterday Lyle didn't look like his father. He always did in a fashion, but the age never matched. It was never truly confirmed that Lyle was the spitting image of his father, because there were never any pictures from his younger days. Nor did Lyle know his grandparents. Amata did, Butch did, hell even Susie Mack did, but not Lyle. It's like his entire history vanished and he didn't even notice it until now, mainly because he probably didn't care.

He yanked the vault suit off of the hanger and slipped it on, his figure seemed smaller now, down to the original, feeble, little vault-rat he was. Not even making an attempt to disturb Amata he left their room into the empty corridors of Vault 101. It was a little new, the doors opened without a switch and the floor tiles lit up where he stepped. His green eyes trailed down both ends, it was rather desolate, probably because everyone was asleep, but was he really back? It wasn't possible, because there were some differences. The floor never lit up like radiation before. Instead of the neon green, it was a pale blue. _Where are you going?_ A voice whispered from behind Lyle and he spun around, only to see an empty corridor. _I don't understand why you do the things you do. _The voice haunted the hall once more. Lyle simple stood, listening to the familiar tone beckon memories out to him. _I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever._

_Are you sick or something? Perhaps going away?_

_No._

* * *

His skin tingled as a cold, flexible surface caressed his flesh. Once more, Lyle found himself opening his eyes and awakening to another dream. A dream probably wasn't the right term to describe it. Water kissed the side of his cheek, slowly soaking into his uniform and cuddling his collapsed palm. It was rather dark, except for the revealed corners from a flaring light. The fuse was about to break, he could hear the bulb sizzle wildly with each burst of light. He could smell the strong sulfuric scent of blood. His hand shook as he brought it to his face, he was suddenly young again, but the side of his head was lathered with blood. _I wouldn't want to marry her._ The voice echoed from the shadows of darkness. That was the last thing he ever said. Not a goodnight, or see ya later. Just a promise that the lineage would end. Lyle couldn't even find compatibility, screw having kids. He couldn't imagine continuing the mystery, passing down the hatred. If Lyle had a kid, he just knew, in the back of his mind, he'd be an absent father as well. Something about this place was prodding his brain. It was sniffing out his memories, his subconscious secrets, from wants to fears. The mind was a complex entity, a structure that could not be broken so easily, but intercepted? It could be done. He seemed to be in the same place, the Vault, even the floor underneath his body and a few inches of water seemed to emit a dull glow. The only difference was that the floor was covered in two inches of water and the entire place looked like a looting palace in the wasteland. He could here faint whispers, even if they weren't comprehensive.

His fingers moved the water gentle to create ripples, but also toss the grime around. After fiddling for a few moments, he sat up, shifting the water and looking around, nothing but rubble and the dirty walls the dying light exposed. "Hello!" he called out, listening to his voice echo through the darkness. "Is anyone there?" he called out again, nothing but his own voice and incoherent whispers. He'd like to think he was alone or in company, but he really didn't know which was the truth. At this point….he didn't know anything anymore. He now stood, feeling a little dizzy from the wound oozing on his head. His hand lifted up to dress it, but there wasn't much he could do, he didn't even have a stimpak. A noise distracted him as he looked over towards the source of running feet, clapping in the water. Lyle could even make out the dimly lit tiles from the floor. "Hello?" he beckoned again, but the darkness concealed the entity running for him. Out of the encompass of light, a woman emerged, her face dirty with grime and her blonde hair tossed in damp strands. "Hey! What's going on!" Lyle called, but she didn't stop running straight for him. She finally caught up to him and just embraced him. He was baffled, not knowing what to do really, but the strange part about it was that, she looked familiar. "Sierra?" he questioned, squinting with a frown as the woman responded to her name. Despite the dirt on her cheeks, she was still pretty with that cute, freckled face. "I'm so sorry Lyle." she coughed in tears. "Sorry for what?" he responded as she swallowed and looked at him with two big hazel eyes.

The floor underneath their feet started pulsating underneath their feet, like a heart beat and Lyle took notice to it, looking down. "I'm sorry because I know you've always done well for me. I never did anything to return the favor. The only thing I can do is this.." she explained. She stretched up on her toes and pecked him on the lips. It was so tender and so delicate, it never felt like any other intimacy he felt before. Why? Why here of all places and times? How? This wasn't even real…or was it? "Why?" he had to question, but instead of an answer, she shoved him. So much force was applied he stumbled back, but it seemed like the floor disappeared and he lost his balance. Lyle was preparing for his back to hit the ground, but instead his figure fell through the surface of the water and he just started sinking. Above him he could see Sierra standing there, looking down a though watching him through a glass pane. Lyle lifted up his hand towards her, but he kept sinking like he weighed of steel. He was surrounded by water, yet he wasn't drowning. Lyle didn't even recall worrying about oxygen. His figure fell farther and farther from Sierra, to a point where the blip of her existence wiped from his vision. The world seemed to turn upside-down as his head broke through another layer of surface to meet the warm air. His hues examined the rotten, dead details of the Wasteland.

What do you do when you feel like the sky is falling? When the smallest flick of a trigger could change years, even a life-time of work. Lyle never asked for his life, not in the way, shape or form it was given. He could sit here and blame James for all of his misery, but in the end of it all, James wouldn't always be around to take what he was burdened with. In the end of it all only Lyle was responsible for his actions. Of course, he couldn't control how he felt, but he could change his future. The waves brushed past his torso, smoothing against his sides. The air was surprisingly cool, with the scent of destruction. His green eyes focused on the wasted shore of a torn land, everything dead, but a bright blue light glistening just above the peak of the horizon. This being an abnormal collection of radiance, he waded through the water onto the sand shore. _Where are you going?_ the voices preceded to antagonize him, the voices were a multiple of one, held dear and so familiar. James never stopped haunting Lyle. No matter where he went, no matter how hard he tried to just venture on for his revenge, the feelings for his father would always stain his heart and his memories a constant poison. _It's not over, There's a lot of work to still be done._ He broke free from the watery surface, every molecule slid off of his clothes. _I hope you'll understand, but I know you might be angry. _The voices didn't stop him from continuing onto the shore, the most they did was burn the back of his mind.

_It's best if he can blame everything on me._

Lyle approached the blue glistening light shining against the orange and red sky. The bright light as he got closer molded into the thin outline of a person. It was a woman, her features got more defined as he got closer. A curious frown crossed over his face as he winced the light out of his vision. "Sierra?" he questioned. It was her again, why was she here? A lot more than Amata, whom he expected to see more, but no, just the appearance in his bed. What exactly did this all mean? Where was he? That is if he truly was anywhere. He slowly approached Sierra, so that he stood a foot away from her, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the light. "Why are you here?" she didn't answer him, simply held out her arms. This made Lyle feel awkward, eve distrusting of the woman standing before him. She was too kind and too welcoming, that he rejected. For months now, he's been on his own, really. He had Windlaw, Buddy and psycho to settle his problems. Many vices, but nothing that actually mended the pain within him. Only Lyle had the power to ease the fury inside of himself. The light began to fade and expose her features, in fact she wasn't even clothed. He lifted an index to point at her, quite in shock and remain speechless. Once again, the same question ran through his thoughts, he wanted to know why she was here. _Why?_

Sierra out of all people that would be in the dream world, or wherever they were, she was here. He didn't even see James once despite the fact he could hear the man's voice haunt him from every corner of the universe. She didn't speak, simply held her hands out to him. Lyle slowly lifted a free hand to take hold of hers. He never felt Sierra before, he could ever tell if she had beautifully smooth skin or if they were rough from years in the Wasteland. It didn't matter much because he couldn't even focus on the texture of her flesh, merely the conversion of light pass between their palms. His green eyes focused on the light absorb through his pores and illuminated his flesh, slowly crystallizing his skin to a dark, emerald green, flaking off as the anomaly spread. His body was dissipating before his eyes, withering away. Everything went dark as the wave of crystal reached his head. This place was a strange location everything flipped like the pages of a book and he didn't completely understand where he truly was. His world grew light, washing all the darkness away, exposing nothing but blank color. The walls met the floor and there were no evident creases. Segments of white light up as blue numbers sparked in the sky. They flurried and faded digits like an advanced terminal. Lyle loved learning how things worked, technology being his greatest feat. His attention was purely on the strange elapses of reality that occurred in this boundless area. The numbers made him so fascinated, he didn't even realize that his own father was sitting in the center.

He lifted his hand to try to touch the strange generation of symbols, but it flickered away once his skin nearly touched it. His brows furrowed as he turned to look over his shoulder at the man in the center. "Dad?" he questioned. The word echoed as though the environment spanned out forever. The man opened his eyes to pay attention to his son. "It's been while." Lyle stated once he realized his father wasn't responding. _"It's been forever.."_ he commented, in the same calm tone as his son. "Did you build this?" Lyle questioned, closing his fingers nto his fist. Was this why his father left? He owned some vault somewhere else that had this technology. All was disappointing when the man shook his head slowly. _"I don't have dreams like you do Lyle." _he explained. The frown on his face grew even more confused as his father spoke to him. "what do you mean?" he almost seemed defensive. _"I desire to do wonderful things. As for you Lyle, the lesson of it is; I never wanted you to be…me"_ His father spoke without hesitation. Lyle lowered his hand and turned to his father. "I don't want to be you either." he argued. "I _never_ want to be you." he spat in a very spiteful tone. His father shook his head. "_You've always wanted to live up to the expectation son, you're here because if there was no me, there is no you."_ he explained. Lyle could feel the anger swell in his chest, he could feel the _truth_ James spoke coil and burn. It was true, He acted out of line, but at the end of he day he wanted to make right with his father. Was he really in this entire mess because he was just dying for his father's approval?

NO!

There was a lot more to this, he _hated _his father for leaving. It was betrayal and deceit. "Don't you fucking try to get inside my head! You don't know jack shit, you LEFT!" he yelled, trying to reach his side for a firearm, only to be short a gun. A laugh escaped from the man's mouth as he shook his head. _"You created this, you built this. Vault 112's simulation is designed by one's mind. The very thoughts, the fears, everything, the people, the environment, is all in your mind. All the people you've seen, every word said is all something hidden away and exposed from your subconscious. __**You**__ built this."_ He finally found out where he was. This place, everything in it was Lyle. It was all Lyle. He was inside his own mind, this was all him. Even what his own father was telling him, he always knew? The boy was brilliant and he could tear a part everything that seemed remotely complex. It was why he wanted to be a mechanic and not a sanitation officer. "Then why are you here?" he asked. Lyle knew where his father was, he wasn't _here_, yet he was. _"I'm here because I'm every part of you just as you are of me."_ James suggested. Lyle frowned slightly. "I'm me. I will never be you. I'll change the world in my own way, not yours." he argued, this was really getting to him. "Just because I'm your son, it doesn't mean I'm doomed to be you." he stated with venom in his tone. He could feel the fury boiling inside of him, just staring at his father made it worse.

"I've let you go this far because I respected you, you bastard and you can't even give me _anything _back." he growled. _"How did you expect that Lyle? You've always gotten into trouble and wrecking everything for yourself. I couldn't possibly stay with you acting in such a manner. I'm very __**disappointed**__." _James explained. Lyle clenched his fists as his nostrils flared. "How could you say such a thing? You fucking left and now you're blaming it on me? I _made _you leave? What about you! I'm not you! I'm not going to be perfect or help people the way you do! All you have is me! Mom died and all that was left was me. That wasn't good enough for you? You had to turn your back on me and leave me to be the source of blame and suffer for _your _choices?" Lyle was finally understanding why he truly left the vault, there was just so much pain and anger lingering there, that it wasn't home. His father set stones that would never be pleasant to live with. Lyle wanted to live a life based off his decisions, not live the consequences his father deserved. James didn't reply and the silence made Lyle even angrier than before. "You bastard! Own up to what you did!" he yelled, approaching his father and grabbing the man's collar. _"No._" James rebelled. Lyle took the man with all of his might and made him stand, thrusting his arms to toss James to the floor. As his father's figure reached the floor, the walls melted and let in a ravenous storm. Rain beat against Lyle's flesh, slithering down his face in streams of clear liquid.

"You didn't leave because of me. You left because you're a coward. A hypocrite. You couldn't handle the fact your life was spent in a hole underground. You're selfish, arrogant and an asshole." Lyle yelled through the harsh winds and curtain of rain. James scrambled to his feet and stood before Lyle, opposing his son. _"I left because my life wasn't what I wanted it to be, son. I've raised you to be a man and make your own decisions. You _need_ to know these things. I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever."_ James explained. Hearing that sentence come from the horse's mouth….one more time, just made Lyle _snap_. "SHUT UP!" he yelled, lunging for his father and throwing a fist towards the man's face. Satisfaction eased Lyle as he saw crimson bleed from James' nose. A sadistic and content smirk spread across his face as he watched the man stumble back. _"You'll never learn."_ James growled, standing tall before Lyle. The man grabbed Lyle's collar and gripped him into a hold. _"You'll never be good enough son. Not for anyone you cherish to stay. You've been nothing but a disappointment, a disaster. Everyone will leave you."_ James' fist plowed into Lyle's face, then a knee to his gut and the boy fell to his knees. Lyle never felt so…._defeated_ in his life and the worst was still yet to come. _"You're a traitor, a terrible person."_ James continued. Lyle was quiet and kneeling in the rain, letting his own blood pool on th tile ground. A harsh blow, from what felt like a metal bat hit Lyle's shoulder blades and it caused the boy to collapse. _"You constantly blame everyone else for your problems, your choices and your sadness._" James didn't stop, another beating went into Lyle's side.

The boy was already on the ground and the pain just kept coming, so harsh until his body grew numb, nothing but waves of excruciating pain etching through his flesh to keep his nerves alive. _"Get up! What? You can't get up? You expect to travel the wasteland and kill me, but you can't even get up?" _James kicked Lyle's side and forced the boy to roll over on his back. The rain felt so cold against his skin as it poured onto his face, wiping away the blood that oozed from his mouth, nose and new wounds. _"You NEED to know these things. I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever."_ James yelled. A whole new face was now there. A man Lyle never knew. James had become the man Lyle always blamed him to be; selfish, cruel and _evil_. "Are you sick or something…..? …..Perhaps….going away?" Lyle sputtered, letting blood clots chunk out of his mouth. He would have cried, if he didn't endure Debris' abuse. It just starting to bite away inside of him, he could feel it hollow him out. James lifted the metal bat above his head, but slowly as though Lyle's words caused him to think. _"I am not your enemy son. The only person you should be afraid of is…" _James stopped for a mere second as his face changed, aged backwards and his hair grew, forming into a mirrored image of Lyle. It was an identical twin, except this one was in a lot better shape than the real, beaten Lyle on the ground. "**You.**" he finished. Lyle watched as the bat moved towards his face. All he could hear was the heavy thunder of his heart beat before his world blacked out into darkness.

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry for such a long wait, but writing this simulation was actually very very tough. I have finally made the next chapter and still plan to continue Lyle's story. YES, there will officially be a sequel, but not for some time. I'm working on a gallery for concept art of Lyle, as well as other characters in Project Impurity. Please keep reading and reviewing, it really helps me :) I hope this chapter was worth the wait, there's a lot of goodies to come.


	12. Chapter 11: Bad Dreams Don't Stop

It was calm, almost tranquil as his lids lifted to expose his emerald green eyes. His sight examined the glass dome above his head. He could hear his breath shallowly release from his tense chest cavity. A loud moan of a machine shutting down sounded outside the glass barrier. What happened? All Lyle remember was the bat coming towards his face, closer and closer. He was almost positive that was the end, he was surely going to be beaten to death by no one but _himself_. Instead, he ended up here in the prison called life. He shifted in the chair, but his back tensed up as he felt the tug of the needles still impaled into his scalp. "Gah ah!" he yelled as the pain stung his brain. Lyle's hands reached up to tug at the contraption, not caring for the blood that dripped down his temples. His muscles strained to pry the clasp open, his fingers burned as the metal cut into his flesh. The television in front of him was still flipped down, but the screen was black. Everything seemed…._dead_. When he first went into Vault 112, everything sounded with fans and the low hum of machinery, but there was not a single sound. That didn't stop Lyle's attempts to escape the pod, still pulling at the head brace that locked him to the chair.

This machine projected some of the worst thoughts Lyle could ever dawn on himself. It was a punishment, it had to be some sort of 'getting even' with karma. His strain finally eased as the metal gave and the head piece broke off of his head. He didn't even hesitate to whip the needles from his head, not caring at all for the stream of blood, flowing from the holes. Lyle's expression frowned as he eyed the tv and then looked outside the pod. The power seemed to have been shut off, everything was dead. That wasn't a good thing, considering the pod door was powered by electricity. How did it get turned off? Didn't it have some back-up generator? How was he going to get out of here? A loud crash sounded as he witnessed a pod shell fly through the air and clash to the floor nearby. "**Modern Witchcraft! Heartless Humans!**" Windlaw's voice roared, Lyle could hear it perfectly through the thick glass of his pod hull. What kind of journey did Windlaw have? Did he have dark secrets like Lyle, perhaps something worse? There was no time to sit and question right now. "Windlaw! In here! Windlaw!" Lyle called raising a bloody fist to pound on the glass. It didn't take long for the super mutant to appear on the side of the machine. His large, green face smiled at the sight of his friend.

Lyle sat back, away from the glass because Windlaw pounded his fists into the curved framing, breaking through the panes and tearing the door off its hinges. Shards of glass sprinkled to the floor, spreading over the concrete like snow. Lyle hopped out and looked around. Windlaw breathed heavily, the giant was angry, but there was nothing to take it out on. Even the robots in Vault 112 stood still, inactive and their lights out. Lyle's eyes looked at the other pods, surveying the withered figures inside. They also lay lifeless in dull pods. "They're all dead." Lyle commented after taking in his environment. "The power went off somehow….it turned off the system. That's how we got out, but these people, they've been kept alive by the simulation. Their mind thinking they're younger than they were. That computer was the only thing keeping them alive. They….They are the first Vault 112 inhabitants…years ago, before the bombs fell." Lyle concluded. It was a very advanced system, one Lyle would have to pick at in his free time, but he couldn't help feeling _guilty_ for being alive when the entire community was now dead. Windlaw stood in awkward silence, still breathing with fury. Without a word, the super mutant stomped off towards Smith Casey's. Lyle hesitated to follow, but shortly left the room. He climbed the stair case to the closet he put his original clothes in.

There was no need to wear Vault 112's jumpsuit anymore. So he stripped himself of the worn suit and exchanged it for his wasteland gear. As he brought his shirt down over his torso, his green eyes thinned as he noticed a white lab coat in the back of the closet. His fingers pried at the fabric and removed the garment from the hook. This was familiar…too familiar. He tore off the lab coat from a vault jumpsuit. Turning it in his hands, he searched for the shoulder blades in the fabric. Just as he thought; the back bared the sewn '101' number. His brows furrowed as he stared at the numbers. "You were here…" he stated in a rather bland tone. Lyle knew who's jumpsuit this was. James was here, James was in Vault 112 at some point. He was here and he was gone. Why didn't Lyle notice this before he went into the pod? Then again he had a robot busting his ass from the moment he got here. James _was _**here**. Lyle scrunched the jumpsuit in his fists as he lowered it out of his sight. He was SO close to James, on the right path and always right under Lyle's nose. James was always two steps ahead, the one man Lyle could never catch up to. If Lyle was five, then James was ten. He seriously questioned if he allowed his father to be ahead in the game. It was about time Lyle stopped _letting_ James win. He expanded the jumpsuit once more to expose '101' clearly. "You were here."

* * *

_**Previously…**_

"The eyebot spotted the vehicle coming from this location." a radio simulated voice spoke through a thick green speaker. An Enclave soldier pointed to Smith Casey's garage from a distance. An Officer pulled binoculars to their face and eyed the subtle garage through twin scopes. "A floating bike?" the officer questioned. It seemed like some elaborate hoax, but the Enclave couldn't resist the theory that there was new technology the Brotherhood of Steel didn't have their hands on. "Any intel on the Wastelander who owns the vehicle?" The officer questioned. A shake of the officer's head proved that there was no information on Lyle, the man who created this new found technology. The eyebot simply send pictures of the sighting, but nothing more to asses the given situation. "Send in the eyebot first, then take the rest of the squad down there. I want every living thing in there alive, especially the man who invented the thing." Eyebots were tricky little devils, they seemed harmless as they floated around and broadcasted president Eden in the wasteland. One managed to capture Lyle on his invention and reported it to head-quarters.

The enclave soldier ordered the eyebot to proceed, they all stood and watched the sphere float towards Smith Casey's. The crew followed shortly behind, allowing a little distance between them and the robot. Inside, a terminal loaded, turning on Smith Casey's protective system. Lyle took the time and the liberty of rigging the entire place to defend itself even in his absence. Being as smart as he is, he was able to design a system that assessed a threat and defended accordingly. Now a threat such as the Enclave, required a little more effort. They used power armor, electrical weapons and owned most technology found in the wasteland. The reason they were so keen to get Lyle's invention was because his vehicle was a milestone for evolution. Just like his father, he was changing the Wasteland, but in a very different way. The terminal scanned the unit and pin-pointed the evident signs that evaluated their threat level. The enclave were heavy on electricity, technology that required power. Take all power out and it left them useless. Before pulling out Lyle's secret weapon, the terminal commanded rigged shot guns to emerge from their sockets. Once the _mechanical_ weapons were set, the terminal then used Lyle's E.M.P. A wave of electro magnetic waves shot flowed from Smith Casey's and powered down everything electrical within a five miles radius, including Vault 112's simulator.

The eyebot fell to the ground with a large thud and the enclave's power armor died as well as their weapons. All hope was lost for them as the mechanics of the rigged traps worked and fired off shots into the cluster of soldiers. Four bodies fell to the ground and their blood seeped into the dry sand of the wasteland.

* * *

Lyle emerged from the Vault into Smith Casey's, not tending the technology that was shut down by the E.M.P., but his hands shoved through shelves and filing cabinets. There was only one thing he was looking for. Ever since slavery, Lyle has needed the same substance Debris introduced to him. Psycho, it had wonderful effect on him. The sudden rush of strength and the ease on his mind as it fell empty. Windlaw was right long ago, psycho was addicting. Unfortunately, Lyle allowed himself to be an addict, even tearing his place apart to find one dose. After the pain from vault 112, the physical and emotional pain with the knowledge his father was practical his, he couldn't deal with the over-flow of disturbing failure. His chest tightened with frustration as he thrashed through some metal boxes. "There has to be some around here somewhere!" He yelled, tossing some scrap metal. Windlaw silently watched his friend suffer, lowering his hand to pick up Buddy and cradle him in his arms. Lyle scrounged through his belongings, finally finding a double-bound syringe. A content smile spread across his face as he sat in his desk chair. Expanding his arm out, he exposed his vein and pierced his flesh, allowing the chemical to enter his system. He felt it burn through every fiber of his being.

Windlaw's face dropped with sadness as he observed Lyle sit in his chair. Long ago the giant told Lyle that drugs like psycho would become addictive, yet here he was swallowing chems to drown his misery. Why did humanity suffer so much? They dropped the bombs and they put themselves here. Everything terrible in this world was caused by humanity. What did Windlaw have to say about this? He, himself was once one of _them_. Super mutants were just mutated human beings, a different species from ghouls, but brothers in the crime of radiation. Both races were poisoned, but that didn't mean their morals and values dissipated. Windlaw had a bigger heart than Lyle at some points. Lyle may have been bred perfectly in the image of humanity, but he was stained with the very flaws that brought its downfall. His friend stood from the chair and leaned onto the desk, eying the bits of junk littering the surface. What was going through Lyle's head? "AH!" his voice emerged, louder than any super mutants. Lyle brushed his hands over the desk, sliding everything onto the floor. He turned to the shelves lunging for objects, tossing them, even taking some light bulbs and pegging them at the opposite wall. Glass smashed against the surface and littered the floor with the rest of his mess. _Your only enemy, is you._ "Is this what you wanted?" he yelled, thrashing another box of stuff onto the floor. "is this why you left?" he growled. "Was this your plan?" he spat, tipping the empty shelf onto the floor. Lyle's rage even frightened the green giant.

_You need to know these things, I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever….._

* * *

_**Three days later…**_

Lyle sat at his work desk, flipping the switch to a desk lamp powered by a fission battery. His index toggled the switch to turn the lamp on…..then off. On…..then off. On then off. He's been doing this for about three days. Ever since his hit of psycho, he's been angry or utterly quiet. Windlaw would say something or try to talk to him, but both of them were suffering from the aftermath of their simulations. Lyle's green eyes fixated on the bulb as the light went on and out. Every time the bulb illuminated, he could hear his father's voice rant and rave. Of course this noise was very subtle, barely itching the back of his head. His thoughts were clouded with his father for the past few days. Nothing but memories or words brewed for taunting. Lyle frowned slightly as his gear began to turn, thinking about invention and exploration. The norm for his intelligence. Why was Sierra in his simulation? Amata was only seen once, but Sierra stained the place. He could understand James' presence, but Sierra? His brows scrunched down as he thought about it. The simulation was built to expose the secrets locked away, what was he hiding from himself? The chick was obsessed with Quantum, which may explain why she was in great health. Quantum had regenerative properties, a chemical reaction within the liquid caused some sort of cell life. Lyle perked up and spread his hands over the scattered papers on his desk. At a larger rate, Quantum only healed small wounds, but something tiny could thrive off of it? Lyle stood from his desk, causing Windlaw to pay attention, both of them were rather stagnant. He went into the utility closet, he stashed everything _useless_ in there when he first moved into Smith Casey's. There was a packet of seeds though, apparently the garage sold a little display shelf of them. His fingers pried through the box he stashed them in, looking at the pictures of the different flowers. Long ago people actually grew this shit for _entertainment_. It seemed silly, but most things before the bombs fell were.

He tore through the package and pinched one seed, letting the rest roll to the floor. His green eyes fixated on the pebble sphere. This thing grew into plant life. Settling at his desk once more, he fished through the re-organized shelf beside him, a tin can would serve as a good _vase_. The only place with unchipped glass was probably Tenpenny and that was already blown to hell. Dirt, he needed dirt. Lyle stood once more and emerged from Smith Casey's. He left the Enclave to be picked by the Wastes, their bodies far enough to avoid stinking up the place. Lyle scooped the tin can into the dry ground, chipping dirt off like he was mining. By this time, Lyle understood what happened. The terminal, the E.M.P, everything. To his surprise, his green eyes trailed along the ground to capture a fallen eyebot. His mind expanded, so much from the oppressed ingenuity in the vault. Why not take it? He could fiddle with it and re-program it. Eyebots were advanced technology, something he didn't know at all. Taking the can in one hand, his other arm cradled the eyebot, taking them both inside to his workshop. Windlaw watched Lyle silently as he placed his findings on his desk. First, he pressed an index into the dirt, pitting the seed at the bottom of the hole. Lyle didn't even bother sitting down, just stood as he smoothed his hands over the metal surface of the eyebot.

His fingers pried open the back, ripping out a fried fission battery. "This is going to require more parts…." Lyle commented to himself, keeping his company out o the loop. Buddy trotted up to his master's side and curled up beside Lyle's foot. "Windlaw, could you please get me a bottle of quantum out of the vending machine." He requested. Windlaw got up and retrieved the requested item, finally having the notion to inquire Lyle's actions. **"What are you doing?**" The giant asked handing over the beverage. "Nuka Cola Quantum has regenerative properties…makes you feel youthful and heals. If ti can change your stamina, then what does it do to something smaller that takes water and makes it a part of its system? What would quantum do to this seed?" Lyle hypothesized as he unscrewed the bottle and poured the glowing blue liquid into the can. After the concoction was made he placed a hand on the broken eyebot. "This is something …..this is a project." Lyle assessed.

His palm patted the surface a couple more times, like he needed to assure himself that he was going to build it. **"You haven't spoken for days, friend. We both are concerned."** Windlaw stated, trying to reach out to Lyle. The boy always seemed like a hollowed out shell, even feistier than most raiders in the wasteland.

Buddy was spoken for by the green giant. Lyle paused, shrugging off the dullness of the situation, plopping down into his desk chair. _That's fine, as long as we got each other. That's all that matters_. Lyle's index crept for the light switch again, turning it off, then on. "I told you I was here because of revenge. I left my vault engulfed with fury. His lips parted to breath and think about his next few words. "The _last_ conversation I had with my father reflected on my life. High-lighted the mistakes I've made. I pretty much told him our family line was over, because I didn't want to marry." he flicked the switch once more, pausing to think. "Some of the last few words he said to me were; You need to know these things. _I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever." _Lyle's voice rolled it out sarcastically. "I knew something was up and I asked him if he planned on going somewhere…..My ol' man stared me blank in the face and said _no_." Lyle threw his hands in the air. "Then why am I here Windlaw? If he wasn't going somewhere, then why the fuck am I here?" His green eyes thinned as he stared at the back wall. "My simulation just reminded me why I questioned. It brought back the dreaded word, the haunt to know; _why_? Why did James leave, WHY did he lie to me?"

He pressed his thin lips together. "James made me believe that I was always going to be in the Vault with him. We were going to be safe, yet he left in his own selfishness and left _me_ to take the blame." he shrugged, avoiding eye contact with Windlaw. The green giant frowned with his mutated mouth, trying to conceal his regret. A part of him _pitied_ Lyle, just as much as Lyle pitied Debris. The pink skin had nothing but his father in an underground vault. Nothing existed outside that steel threshold, yet it was all taken away from him. Lyle could have died, or stayed even inside the vault, but James evoked a whole new life-style for his son. It was cruel to just pick up and leave like that. Especially since the vaults that were still intact were so secluded. "I've been out for months, built my bike to get to my father and I still haven't done that." Lyle moped about his current progression. It seemed like forever ago when Lyle met Gob, whom he still held a promise to. "I just don't want to be reminded of it."

* * *

_**Weeks Later…**_

Lyle already established that the Enclave eyebot was going to be a project, but he didn't even have all of the parts to fix the robot. Acquiring these parts meant trading which also meant a lot of visits to Girdershade. Through the months Lyle was at Smith Casey's, more people began to populate the place and it started to grow into a small settlement. Sierra was living the good life, by selling quantum pies and Lyle visited _frequently_. Ever since he escaped slavery, he made reports occasionally, then ceased all together. The thought of Amata was only remembered in the simulation, but didn't harbor any more attention since then. It took a series of nightmares and hitting psycho to over-come the terror lived in Vault 112's simulation, but Lyle was starting to get on his _normal_ social track. At first, Lyle questioned why Sierra appeared in his simulation, but he discovered that he always admired her. His admiration was obviously stored as something else in his mind. He didn't lust after her like Ron, or like he did every other woman. Instead, he just went to Girdershade every few days to get parts and share some pie with her. James was more than a few months away. It _burned_ Lyle to acknowledge the time etching by. Was he ever really going to find his father? All he needed was one more part to finish the eyebot, once that project was completed, he'd set out on his way. Galaxy News Radio still barely broadcasted and the last Lyle knew, his father intended to go there.

Lyle entered his garage, holding the last coil for the eyebot. He already re-programmed the circuit board, but there was no promised success until he could get his hands on a power source. The fission battery didn't work alone. Lyle already had to tear out the speaker and the Enclave tracker, hacking most of the eyebot's hull apart, so he had to replace it with a sawed bubblegum dome, inside there was a tinted pilot light. To create and 'eye' for the bot, he placed a stove-top grill rack. The eyebot would look like a floating Cyclops, but then again, the design was once again uniquely Lyle's. He set the coil down on the desk and turned to inspect the glowing blue bud of the seed that he planted. It grew and soaked up the quantum, illuminating the area with a faint silver-light. It was a pity his small _side_ projects took priority over finding James. If James was dead then what would Lyle's life be? Just some wasted space for a lost cause. Lyle had to write a few chapters of his own life, he couldn't let his father dominate the entire time-line, despite the fact there was a lot of hatred stored for him. At first he was naive enough to allow his only motivation to thrive off of his father, but now that he was out in the wastes and living, there was a lot more to strive for.

His eyes shifted to his desk, examining the eyebot and James' folded jumpsuit on the corner. It was time to stop fooling around, he needed to find James, this venture was going on long enough. He was probably pro-longing this journey because he didn't know what to do after James' demise. What would he really do? Go back home? Try to live a vault life? What would truly happen? The possibility and uncertainty frighten him. He couldn't sit in Smith Casey's forever because he was unsure, life was all about taking risks and in the wasteland, it was all about surviving. His hand smoothed over the worn fabric of James' jumpsuit, the bastard was out there somewhere. He picked up the coil and turned the eyebot over. Lyle placed the coil inside and closed the hull. The machine's motor started and emitted a low hum as the bulb lit up green. A few beeping noises emitted from the eyebot as it computed Lyle's new reprogramming. The repaired bot floated up from the desk and faced its creator, the large green ring glowing in Lyle's face. The smaller installed speaker below the light assembly crackled on as the bot spoke. _"I-Van."_


	13. Chapter 12: I Finally Had Enough

Lyle sat at his desk, it was late and Windlaw slept, loudly like he always did. Sleep was a luxury it seemed, a privilege that was stripped from him ever since he left the vault. He may have been out for months, but he didn't forget the fine details of a _wonderful_ life. Now that he looked back on it, the Vault just seemed like a huge lie. A spineless lie, that spineless people hid behind. His green eyes examined the glowing blue flower that had just bloomed that evening. The white petals radiated a silver light that made his desk illuminate. It looked like glass and Lyle didn't dare touch it. He leaned his chin in one hand, still staring at the Quantum Flower. His theory was right, at a smaller scale; Quantum could regenerate and even _create_ life. He paused as he heard the low hum of hovering in his left ear. His green hues widened as he slowly turned his chin to observe I-Van floating inches away from his face. "Ivan…..we talked about this…. SPPPPAAAACCCCCEEEEEEE!" Lyle worded out so _space_ was emphasized. He lifted a hand up and gently pushed the eyebot from his head. As soon as he lowered his hand I-Van gravitated towards Lyle, it almost seemed natural. It was already bothersome that he had a _clingy _eyebot, but then began to vocalize. _"I-Van."_ it said in a very cheery, harmonic tone. Lyle dropped his chin into his palm and blandly looked at the Quantum Flower, letting an exaggerated sigh release from his lips. _"IiiiiIIII-Van."_ it said again. Everyone was already familiar with Ivan's name, the bot said it constantly, like it was reminding itself. I-Van, of course was short for Intelligence- Vector Assessment N-something. Lyle didn't care that much. That's how Ivan said it… EYE-VAN…..IIIIII-VAN. They thought his name was Ivan. Maybe Lyle just messed up the re-programming, oh boy, did he wish. Unfortunately Ivan's name really was Ivan, model code and jack shit.

He did mess up _somewhere_ because the eyebot had its quirks; like being over clingy and he had spasms. How could a robot have _spasms?_ Simple, one moment they're functioning and then BAM, x-rays and laser beams. Once again, Lyle lifted a hand to gentle push Ivan away from his face, of course his attempts were futile as Ivan migrated back. _"I….Van…"_ it beamed again. Lyle smothered his forehead with his palm as he sighed. _"I-V-."_ Lyle snapped and flung a hand up. "IVAN! SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'LL TEAR YOUR CORE OUT!" Lyle yelled, pausing to listen to the utter silence. It was nice, just sitting there and admiring his creation. The beauty and science behind it. Lyle created life using nothing but Quantum. He really couldn't take all credit, it was really the researchers that made the shit who deserved credit. Either way, he made something unique, something beautifully _unique_. "_Bleep."_ Lyle shifted to stare at the eyebot, Ivan floated there, silently. He lifted a hand up to prepare to push the bot away, but it moved willingly this time. There was just something about Ivan…something…._special_. Content with Ivan's will to move, Lyle shrugged and lowered his hand back to his side. "_Pretty flower…flower…pretty…..Sierra pretty flower."_ Ivan gushed in a hyper-tone. "SHUT UP!" Lyle yelled _thwaping_ the bot so it bowed in the air.

As idiotic as Ivan is, the eyebot gave Lyle and idea. The 'crew' was plotting to leave for Galaxy News, which meant that Lyle would be leaving Smith Casey's, his _home_ and Girdershade. Everything was cutsie, cutsie with Sierra, because that's just how it's always been. She acted like she had no idea what was going on, other than her addiction, Lyle suspected it was a façade. Sierra was a beautiful woman, she needed to survive in the Wasteland just like everyone else. Her methods may have been less violent, but they were tactics nonetheless. His green eyes looked at the Quantum flower and widened. "Ivan, you're a genius." he commented, rather blandly because he didn't want the bot to take it too serious. He reached out and gripped the can, bringing the flower closer to him. A part of him didn't want to leave, because now that he really sat down and thought about it…He grew to like Sierra. Another woman he never touched, he never had, but unlike Amata, he didn't even desire to break Sierra. Lyle liked her innocence, her coy, he liked how she smiled, the way she talked about things. Her addiction to Nuka-Cola was accepted, just like his addiction to Psycho. The only reason he made it through the night was a high, considering _normal _sleep couldn't be acquired anymore. He stared at the flower as he thought, this was cruel, very cruel. Lyle was smart enough to see through Sierra's game, but he was under her spell. What a damn fool.

He frowned slightly, turning the can to observe the flower at different angles. This flower was _perfect_ for her. A small experiment that would probably make the woman die of excitement. As much as he wanted to stay, work in his lab forever and flirt with Sierra. He couldn't forget the real reason why he was here, the **only** reason he was in this life. James. Lyle couldn't just throw his mission in the drain, he strived for this, it's the only reason he made it this far. He set down the can and shifted his gaze to the folded up jumpsuit, untouched at the corner of his desk. One hand extended to gently feel the rough fabric. A part of Lyle missed _him_. He acted rashly because he was angry, but perhaps it wasn't the idea of killing his father that got him here. It was the simple fact that he, as a son, longed for his father. That was the family he had, no one else. There was Amata, but she was a snooty bitch sometimes, being daddy's girl and all. His whole life has pretty much gone to hell. Lyle stood from his desk and started to dig through the junk on his shelf. It was useful collecting junk, he made everything resourceful and junk was cheap or easy to find. He clutched the aluminum sides of a vault-tech lunch box, bringing it to the desk. Unclasping it, he set it open, padding the bottom with some spare cloth and folding up more for the top. The flower was going to go to Sierra, whatever she would do with it, that was up to her. Hell, she could try to eat it for the quantum for all he cared. He came out here thinking that he wasn't capable of growing attached to people. At first the only thing that mattered was killing James. Now he seemed to lose sight of himself, who he was, because without James….who was he really?

He enclosed the glowing flower inside, snapping the lid shut. It really was difficult to stand there and question who he really was. He seemed utterly lost and James was the only person keeping him on the right track. What was going to happen once he found James? Who was going to be the blame then? At the end when Lyle was confused and alone, lost, who would be left to _blame_? His battle to find his father would be carried out and would end, but then what? Would he return to the Vault? Or stay out here? Did he ever even want to go back? No matter what he chose it was in the cards to have James die. His green hues left the lunch box and stared at the jumpsuit, placing a hand back on it, this time scrunching the fabric up in a fist. He lifted it up to eye the sewn numbers between the shoulders. "I need to get out of here." He stated, to himself even though he was in the company of I-Van, the newest member of his dysfunctional crew. I-Van wasn't born that way, he was made that way, just like Windlaw, they were made that way. Lyle and Buddy, they were born as something different. They were all rejects in their own way, all suffering judgment. Did James even consider the consequences of his actions of his decisions? Was there even a thought?

At this point it didn't matter what was going through James' mind, he still did what he did. This wasn't about James, this was about what Lyle wanted to do. He _wanted_ to kill his father, end of story. It wasn't even about revenge anymore, it was his **freedom**. His fingers twisted in the fabric, knotting it up at the seams. There it was; his parasite had never died. Despite his familiarization with Sierra and his friendships, the monster never diminished. His parasite was a boiling anger that burned his heart and cauterized every fiber of his being. An anger that flooded out of control and caused him to act rashly. A natural psycho inducer for the psycho addicted individual. Before James' stunt, he never knew drugs. There was booze, but not drugs. Half of the _sins_ in the wasteland he would have never encountered if he stayed underground. At the same time he had to contemplate if that was fair. A bunch of people buried alive, hiding from the truth, the very _ugly_ truth. Human beings were flawed, so flawed it was disgusting. They destroyed their world and even after that they fought to destroy themselves. No one was neglected from the flaws of humanity; everyone was thrown into the same vat with greed, power and betrayal.

Lyle didn't exclude himself. His fingers loosened and let the fabric fall to the ground, sprawling '101' across the tile. He knew he was very flawed, perhaps even a terrible person. With this knowledge, he accepted the possibility and that didn't stop him. James _wasn't_ going to be around to hold his hand forever.

* * *

Lyle opened the steel door to Smith Casey's, letting himself out into the Wasteland. The sun was just above the horizon, glowing brightly as the rays seemed to set the dust on fire. Waves of heat radiated off of the ground, beaming harsh light against the front of Lyle's figure. He lifted a hand to shield his face from the blaze. Today was the last day he'd spend at Smith Casey's. He planned to find his father and not to return until after the deed was done. It wasn't really planned whether or not he'd officially return to the vault. A subject Lyle was successfully avoiding for a long time now. He really didn't know what was _home_ anymore. Home was supposed to be that place someone felt safe or welcome, the vault wasn't that place anymore and he wasn't entirely sure if the wasteland was his home either. Smith Casey's served a loving environment to fool around in, but was it home? He didn't feel like he belonged anywhere at this point, he was a reject. James didn't leave him much of a choice either, leave or pay for his consequences. The son would pay for the father. Did that even sound fair?

He approached his bike, mounting it with a bag slung over his shoulders. Now is the time, Now is the hour to say goodbye to Girdershade. His hands gripped the handles of his bike and it floated into the air. The nose of the vehicle pointed towards Girdershade and he revved the engine, letting it roar. It was a symbol to his own success, but either way it enlightened him. The power of the engine forced forward and the bike began to speed towards his destination. His face was lashed by wind as he rode on, letting the sun rise at his back, spreading his shadow a few feet ahead of him. Girdershade in the early morning was never anything special. Most of the civilians slept away and traders huddled next to their Brahmin, pretending like they weren't there. It was usually dull and life-less in the morning. Except for Sierra's place, she was an early bird, especially now that she got up to sell her quantum pies to passing traders. It grew since Lyle first arrived, but that's what life was all about wasn't it? Evolving. He slowed to stop and parked his vehicle, the only man in the wasteland to own one. The warm smell of quantum pie filled the air, she was already cooking. He took the lunch box and brought it to his side as he approached the door, knocking upon the wood frame.

Within seconds Sierra appeared as the door flung open, a wide smile spread across her face the moment her eyes saw Lyle. Something about Sierra made Lyle feel like it was his birthday all the time. Just how she rejoiced his presence and beamed with happiness/_"Hello Lyle. What are you doing here?"_ she questioned, not that she was unhappy to see him. Her hazel eyes fell to his hands, he could tell she was looking for a Nuka-Cola bottle. Instead, Lyle brought her a very unique gift. "Can I come in? There's just something I want to talk about." He stated, not beating around the bush, plain and simple. Sierra smiled shortly with a short nod as she stepped aside. Lyle walked in and allowed her to close the door behind him before saying anything. "Sierra…I'm leaving." Lyle just blurted it out. The truth was that he talked, in fact ever since his simulation, he'd visit quite often. Waiting for I-Van's parts, he'd go over her house and share a rather interesting conversation or two. Just in a couple of weeks, he started to see the light of a different star. There was more to Sierra than good looks and gitty charm.

She was very optimistic about a lot of things and nearly ignorant to the brutality of society, even neglected to accept Ron's _flaws_. That was something Lyle wanted to talk about today, Ron, among other things. It's been months and the man still wanted to weasel his way into Sierra's pants, what a dirt bag. Even now, Lyle was thinking about how he reacted to Ron, he had become…_protective_ of her. His fingers gripped the lunch box, waiting for Sierra's reaction, but she just stared at Lyle with a distraught expression. Why did he come to tell her that he was leaving, when he left everyone else without caring so much? Something about her, made him _want_ to say something. "I came to tell you that I'm leaving for a while, going to go to the D.C. area, find my father." Lyle explained, his heart was racing as he stared at her upset face. He felt something he never felt before with Amata or Susie Mack; the nervousness of upsetting a woman. Sierra silently plopped down in the nearest chair, to blankly stare at the floor. The news seemed to be over burdening, but she got it, he could tell. "While I'm gone, I want you to take care of yourself, ok? Don't let that asshole anywhere near you." Lyle requested.

That's when he got a response. _"Ron is not that, he's a dear man, who's helped me out way before you came along Lyle."_ She defended, her tone was rather bitter. Lyle was seriously stumped, not a word about his departure and BAM she's wonder woman for Ronald. "He's only been nice to you to screw you side-ways. Why can't you get that? You're a grown woman! It's clear as day!" Lyle exclaimed, just trying to get Sierra to see that Ron really was a scum bag. He'd shoot him himself, if it wouldn't ruin his image with Sierra. That's when she snapped, all that sweetness drained away and a solemn storm cloud blocked the sun. He could see the tears glitter in her hazel eyes as she shot up from her chair and pointed and index at him. _"I don't need you to come and tell me that Lyle! You think you're the only man to come in here and tell me? Why do you think I pretend? I pretend like everything is innocent? Because I'm tired of every scumbag in the wasteland coming in here to __**screw**__ me. Now Lyle, LEAVE!"_ she sobbed. "Wait…Wha?" It all just happened so fast. Where was the fruity, ignorant bliss? It all vanished in mere seconds because he said one thing that was…**true**. After hesitating to think about it, he realized why she acted the way she did. Dumb herself down, it was a very simple form of protection because 'no' wasn't good enough.

Lyle's jaw dropped slightly when he figured it out. It was all just a coy game, she was a frail woman, alone in the Wasteland and she knew how to protect herself. He felt dumb for letting Sierra's little game fool him. She basically proved his point, there was no need to fight, but he felt the cold sting of _guilt_ tickle his heart. Everyone in the male species treated her like crap, but reviewing his past, he did just the opposite. She was the only one neglected from Lyle's lust. It was…..weird. What made her so special? Maybe the fact that she wasn't some sleeze who gave herself to any man who was willing, or the fact that she didn't have a broom shoved up her ass. She was full of confetti and bubbles, but even now, he could see that there was more to her than she led on. Sierra had a _personality_. That still didn't justify why he _felt_ the way he did about her. _Feel_. It's been forever since he felt anything positive; it's been hatred and anger for a long time. His green eyes widened as he was thinking, more and more about this situation. She was on the verge of sobbing and his gears were turning. He finally realized why he's treated her pleasantly, why he valued her above everyone else he's ever met. His hands moved to set down the lunch box on a nearby table, cluttered with nuka-cola. All of this meant one thing; "It finally makes sense." He concluded. This whole conversation turned into a monologue for his own discovery. "I think I love you." He whispered, merely thinking out loud to himself. His green eyes lifted to view Sierra, who now had a curious expression composed on her face. "Oh shit…" he stated, looking directly back. That conclusion was really something he wanted to keep to himself.

He backed up and reached for the door handle. "I gotta go." He insisted, letting himself out abruptly, not letting another word pass between the two of them. Lyle closed the door behind him, scrambling towards his bike, kicking up dirt into the warm air. He really didn't want Sierra tailing after him, as far as he was concerned that conversation lasted too long. _I think I love you. _

* * *

Windlaw woke up to a delightful day, he slept well, and there was peace in the giant's mind. He noticed Lyle was gone, probably in Girdershade, trading or _flirting_ with Sierra. The puny human didn't want to admit it, but his face dyed red every time her name was mentioned. Ever since his liberation he really didn't have anything to complain about. His experience in the simulation could do without, but he had a feeling his eventful 'dream state' was nothing compared to his companion's. Every inhabitant in the Wasteland had secrets, regrets and they sinned because of their flaws. Windlaw, even though he is now a super mutant, was once human and made the same, if not exact mistakes Lyle did. He harbored feelings, negative and positive towards other beings. Also had the _stable_ mind to think out decisions and weigh the results. Now he could feel the radiation saturate his mind like acid, just waiting to burn with rage like his brothers, but a better part of him kept control. He was grateful for his opportunity to grip civility, he liked having a mind. I-Van hovered by the front door, waiting like a watch-dog for his master to return home. The robot was more dependent than the rodent. Buddy was capable of caring for himself, keeping safe and giving everyone space, though he did desire attention once in a while. Windlaw lowered a huge green hand to gently stroke Buddy, who slept on the floor near the chair leg.

He knew to be particularly delicate with the rodent, being the thing was a runt. Buddy was content just sleeping near a loved one, I-Van on the other hand, enjoyed being within breathing space. Windlaw was seriously contemplating how long it'd be before Lyle dismantled the bot. Think of the devil, the boy burst through the front door, hitting I-Van into the side wall. Windlaw and Buddy looked up, rather curious about Lyle's haste entry. I-Van was unharmed by the abuse and floated gleefully to his master. Lyle habitually pushed the bot away from his face, to give a good, but close distance. "I need your help, I fucked up." He said without much hesitation. Windlaw frowned, or attempted to with his mutated face. **"What did you do this time?"** Windlaw inquired; at this point he had gotten used to the fact Lyle was a trouble-maker. They didn't have any trouble with the regulators, yet, but he could tell Lyle was a red flag, especially with this Enclave interference. Lyle didn't seem too concerned with the fact that Enclave tried to infiltrate Smith Casey's, but perhaps there was nothing to worry about, they were all well protected. He gasped, almost excited, but startled at the same time. "I think I love Sierra." He announced. It was more of a disturbing thought than anything, he never felt so…confused. _Felt_.

It was just hatred and anger; he never felt love, passion. Anything beautiful was never even experienced within the vault. Susie Mack was just a toy and Amata… a pipe-dream. Lyle didn't really want to linger on love or even worry about it, yet there it was. From the moment he slept through his simulation, he was stuck with the inevitable fact that a small part of him was still human and he still had a heart. James made it seem like everything corroded away and he really couldn't feel, but in reality, it left him more vulnerable than ever. Lyle didn't like being vulnerable. His green eyes stared at Windlaw, who was now interested in why Lyle "fucked up". _I'm sorry __**Dad**_. He could still hear voices haunting him, whispering in the cockles of his mind. _Sorry? What ever for?_ It was so easy to just tell Windlaw, how he really felt and why, but the complexity of it all was just over-whelming. The fact that he was now so _weak_, bothered him and it just fueled his rage. "We're leaving tonight." He stated, completely blowing off the possible vent with Windlaw.

He shut the front door and huddled in his work area. _"Most of the time I don't understand why you do the things you do, how you treat Amata, especially how great she's treated you, but in the end, you're my only son, Lyle and I will always love you. You make your own decisions for yourself and you must face the consequences. __**You need to know these things, I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever**_." Lyle wasn't exactly happy with the same haunting words repeating through his mind either. It was like his mind wanted him to know, wanted to remind him every day of the tragedy he turned his life into. Including, the very words that bred this mess. He could sit there and blame his father, mope, but in the end it was Lyle that was going to change things, make them last for the better. Despite the need to solve his problems, James was still going to die. No matter what, James would suffer in the end. His hands sprawled on the desk top, eying every item in his inventory, debating what was to stay and what was coming with him. Lyle did intend to come back, Smith Casey's became home and there was more than just objects here. Windlaw, Buddy and even I-Van; as much as he was despised by Lyle, they were family. This was all he had,

Either way he was here to kill James, it was going to be done and he's already sat on his hands long enough. The floor rumbled as Windlaw stood from his chair and walked over to Lyle. His back faced the green giant and he did a rather good job pretending that the mutant wasn't there. The rock lodge in his throat made it tough to swallow, but Lyle attempted to remain calm. "Please don't try Windlaw, I know you are, but don't try." He instructed, denying any attempts of comfort from the giant. That's all the super mutant wanted; was to just help. Lyle opened a small sack and started putting medical supplies into a small med kit. If James really did love him, then why was he here? If his father truly loved his son, why did he leave? Was there really any love if there was only provoked doubt? All of this frustrated him, his emotions, the constant 'need' to hate. This business with Sierra threw him off track. Where were the good old days where he didn't have to worry about anything? His green eyes lifted from the desk and mess of things. He shouldn't have to worry. There was a very easy solution to his problems. From the beginning he was keeping Ron alive because he wanted to keep a good image with Sierra Living in the Wasteland was about killing to survive. If he left, no one but Ron would be around to mess with her.

If Lyle _handled_ that situation, he wouldn't have to worry about anything, right? His hand lowered to the desk drawer and pulled it open to reveal a pistol inside. Reaching in, his fingers gripped the handle as he lifted it to eye level. This gun killed so many, it was protection, something simple. Lyle had only used the Iron Maiden once, or twice during the Freedom Fights. It was indeed neglected and there was still a lot of unknown, but there would be a time he'd use it again. He titled the gun and shoved the nozzle into his belt. Windlaw still stood there, silently, watching the human arm himself. Lyle turned to stare at the green giant straight in the face. He knew what he was thinking,; Lyle rushed through the door saying he fucked up and now was pocketing a pistol to leave. Windlaw opened his distorted mouth to speak, but Lyle waved a hand to silence him. "Don't…" Lyle demanded. The giant had no choice, but to listen, being that he respected Lyle's wishes. Killing wasn't exactly against the law, but that didn't make it right either. Windlaw wasn't ignorant to the true colors of Lyle, he understood there was a darker part to the human that bred sin. Lyle killed, that was well-known, even Windlaw had blood on his hands. It was a method of survival in the wasteland.

"Get your things together. We'll be leaving tonight." Lyle instructed, looking around at Buddy and I-Van. He lowered his chin as he turned to leave. Once again he was outside Smith Casey's, ready to go to Girdershade. This time his trip had an entirely different purpose. He mounted his bike and started the vehicle, letting the hunk of metal gravitate a few feet off of the ground. One twist of his wrist on the handle and the bike shot forward, pushing against the wind, he rode parallel with the ground. The sun was relatively high in the sky, it wasn't dawn anymore. A flare of light flashed on the horizon. His green hues thinned to make out the source of the odd signal, only to realize it was sunlight reflecting off of a barrel. "Shit." He murmured as the blast of a gun echoed over the empty waste. Lyle tugged on the right handle, leaning over to wave himself out of the way as the sound of a bullet pierced the air. He approached his attacker at an alarming speed, closer and closer to expose the identity. Ron. The bastard must have heard Lyle and with the opportunity to kill him, everyone would think Lyle just never returned from his trip. Sierra would be his, finally, without competition. All Lyle could feel at that moment was _anger_. The same fury that fueled him to do such terrible things. He tugged on the left handle, leaning so his knee barely touched the rough sand below. Lyle held on tightly with his right hand, extending his left hand out to grab Ron's leg, forcing the man to fall over. Not too soon after Lyle rolled off his bike, letting the vehicle whiz away. All was not lost as he moved to press a button on his pip boy and the bike slowed to a stop about twenty feet away.

He got to his feet, dusting off the red patches of dirt from his grungy clothes. "You asshole!" Lyle yelled, walking with haste to the collapsed Ronald. He swung a leg into the man's side, causing him to roll over. "Why the fuck did you come all the way out here, huh?" he questioned, not even letting a word in. The man shot at Lyle, that automatically made him an enemy. Ronald, turned over reached out for The Kneecapper, flipping onto his other side, he aimed the barrel for Lyle's knee and pulled the trigger. A loud blast sounded through the area as the bullet clipped Lyle's upper thigh. "AHHH!" Lyle yelped as his hands went down to address the wound. Ron chuckled in a sadistic manner. **"So much for being wonder boy."** He mocked as he stood up, becoming level with the opposing man. **"You really think you could just weasel your way in like that? I've got the stupid bitch wrapped around my finger and the second I put a bullet in your skull, I'm gonna screw her."** His voice reeked of slim as he took a few steps closer, lacing his fingers through the back of Lyle's warhawk. Lyle was already wincing in pain as crimson stained his pants, slowly seeping down his leg to pool into his boot. Ron wasn't merciful, but no one in the wasteland was. His hand forced Lyle's head down, bringing his face into Ron's knee. The bone matched up with his nose, eyes and mouth. Once, twice, three times. Ron kept smashing Lyle's face into his joint. Lyle didn't know what was worse, the piercing pain in his leg from the gunshot or the radiating sting that burned his facial features.

_Something's getting in the way…..Something's just about to break. _

With every impact, he could feel his heart race even more and the anger began to burn through every tendon. He managed to let go of his leg, cease the pressure so the wound bled profusely, but at this point, it was either bleed or be beaten to death. Both of his hands grabbed at the arm yanking his hair. Moving them both quickly, a loud crack emitted from underneath Ronald's clothes. The man yelled in pain as he let go and let his broken limb dangle down at his side. **"Mother Fucker."** He screamed, he seemed to be boiling up too. Lyle lifted a fist and shot it square at Ron's jaw. "You piece of scum trash!' Lyle insulted back, taking his foot to kick Ron's leg out. The man toppled onto the ground again, screaming because he landed on his broken arm. "You really think I'd let a piece of slim touch her?" he yelled, throwing his toe into Ron's side. It was unorthodox for Lyle to be fighting over a female, or even _love _one, but at this point, he couldn't control himself. He felt _good_ about _protecting _and _defending_ Sierra. "You can rot in hell you piece of shit!" he demanded as he threw another harsh kick into Ron's side. Lyle collected a swab of salty blood in his mouth, letting the wounds from his face ooze. He spat the wad of clotted blood and saliva on Ron. Without further profanity, he drew his pistol from his belt, aiming the nose at Ron's head. The man didn't even deserve a goodbye, or even the breath of last words.

Not a single hesitation or a single thought; his mind was a black void as his finger squeezed the trigger. One last gunshot sounded and Ron's body went limp. Lyle let his arm hang at his side, dropping the gun in a cloud of dirt as he stumbled a few steps back. The bright desert was spinning and the sun felt like it was frying his skin off. His green eyes focused on his bike that floated and multiplied in his delusion. He could feel the warm stream of blood trickling from every orifice in his face. The bright light started to blotch out with dark spots as he trudged towards his bike, it seemed to move farther away as he got closer. His weight seemed too heavy to carry on as his knees gave in and his chest impacted the flat ground. The numbing sensation in his cheek nullified pain as it smacked against the rough sand. His eyes scanned the horizon as two booted feet stepped into sight and two gigantic green hands lowered. "Windlaw…" Lyle whispered, barely having the air to speak. His world slowly fell out of his grip and the image of his friend helping him disappeared as he lost consciousness.

* * *

If one asked him months ago; Are you ready for this? Lyle would have responded; No….I wish this never happened to me. _If_ he really knew that his father was lying, he would have tried harder to know the truth. _I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever….__**Are you sick or something? Perhaps going away?**__ No No No…__**Dad….what are you hiding?**__ I'm leaving Lyle…I'm leaving the vault __**forever**__._

* * *

His eyes opened to view the dull gray ceiling of Smith Casey's. He felt so much better, turning his head to view a few empty stimpak syringes on the counter beside him. Lyle got up, but still felt very sore, aches waving through his entire body. Windlaw probably brought Lyle inches from death, but there wasn't exactly an abundance of medical supplies either. Psycho was a highly used drug, but everything else wasn't well-kept. He got up and limped over to the cracked mirror on the wall. At least he wasn't bleeding his entire body weight anymore. His green eyes examined his bruised face and swollen nose. Ron really did a number on him and he hated being reminded of it. At least the bastard was rotting in hell, just as he desired. There were going to be a lot of scars from the wasteland, reminders of his suffering. He was human after all, not like he was immune to pain as much as he wished he was. A part of him liked the abused look of the wasteland, it'd been so long he rough housed and it was a very good warm-up before heading back out. Ron was just practice, there was a ton of strange things out there for Lyle to battle, just like the events that took place getting here. Smith Casey's was relatively silent, No one was home. Windlaw probably took the gang to Girdershade to get some supplies they lacked, knowing Windlaw, the giant was reasonable realistic like that.

Speaking of the lonesome environment, there was a knock on the door. Who could possibly be knocking? Lyle never got visitors, not a lot of people knew he lived at Smith Casey's and if they were a threat, the defense system would have fried their asses. He slowly turned to the door, hesitating to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Another knock pounded against the frame, echoing into the room. Lyle approached the door with caution picking up a pistol off of the counter and opening the door just a sliver. The cool night air kissed his cheek as it seeped in from outside. His green eyes looked out into the night, but he dropped the pistol in shock, opening the door to expose his guest fully. At his doorstep was Sierra, she looked like she was crying, but she walked here from Girdershade. Her hazel eyes were swollen and pleading, but Lyle could only tell because her face was illuminated by the dim blue glow from the Quantum Flower. She swallowed what seemed to be a rock in her throat and she didn't say a word, nor did Lyle, so they both stood there. She seemed to be wearing some sort of shawl, which the gripped together at the center of her chest with one hand. He was shocked to see her here and the question is; was he happy to see her? Even if it wasn't intentional, he admitted love to the woman today. With them both standing there it was incredibly awkward and that's when Lyle tried to distract himself by thinking. Sierra parted her lips as she gasped; letting out air as though she was holding her breath.

The hand with the Quantum Flower moved to her side as her fist released the shawl and it fluttered to the dirt ground. She exposed herself, topless and bare-breasted. Lyle's brow arched as his green eyes examined the woman. There wasn't a word passed between them, but he stepped to the side and she entered.


	14. Chapter 13: I'm Losing Control Now

It is always in the stories; the beast was capable of falling in love with beauty. In every fantasy, the monster was just as capable of feeling _love_. If anything on the planet deserved to love, it was the shattered and broken souls. A monster just needed to be understood, seen beyond whatever it was that made them hideous. His face may have not matched his _true_ identity, but undoubtedly Lyle was distinguished as a monster. What made him such a terrible thing? Not just the determination to kill his creator, but the dark invincibly parasite that leeched his emotions. A part of him felt numb, felt _nothing_ like there was an empty void where his heart should have been. Every day that passed seemed to trudge on and every second he could feel that virus devour his soul, slowly making that void bigger. Windlaw may have the appearance of a monster, but the 'man' thought, judged, reasoned and sympathized. What did the green giant have that Lyle lacked?

Perhaps it was the inevitable anger that fueled him. It was a shroud of darkness that scared Amata the first time it peaked face. Now it grew, it devoted its existed to a bigger purpose and despite that, Sierra managed to accept it. Lyle never constantly questioned if he'd ever be loved, he never broke a sweat about what _other_ people thought. There was him and then there was James, no more. He didn't strive for love or acceptance like any man would, he already wrote himself off of the compatibility list. After Amata and the doom to Susie Mack, he already prepared himself for that, yet there was Sierra. A short fight and hours later she stood naked at _his _door. Lyle already knew his human heart didn't wither away to ash because she managed to seize the dying fragment of it. He could do without the thought of love in his head, it was distracting and it just made him soft; which when holding a pistol up to his father it wouldn't be beneficial. How did Lyle get so cold? He had every doubt that he got it from his mother and he definitely knew he didn't get it from his father.

James was a man that was put in high regard. By leaving he didn't just betray Lyle; he turned his back on an entire vault that put him on a pedestal and for what? That's what this whole mission was really about; **Why**? What was so important out here? There was nothing but scum and a life-less planet. Lyle still had to challenge himself and truly decide what was better; rotting in the vault or being stabbed to death out here. Regardless, James saw something of great value, so great he destroyed the life he had and tossed it into this mess. His son became the hunter, ever so curious in his prey; What was so special? It was truly a mystery, one that Lyle wanted to solve before ending his father's life. Even if he had to choke it out of James, he was going to get his answer. So far, the only logical explanation Lyle could construct was the mere fact James didn't discover something; he _**left**_ it and was now returning. That was a weak conclusion, considering it was said that no one ever entered or left Vault 101, but clearly that entire place was founded on lies. The more he journeyed on, the more he revealed the ugly truth. Pretty much the ugly truth was the contradiction of lies. That's all he had to work with for now.

Most of the time, if not all the time, while Lyle was traveling he thought to himself; concluded, but mostly attempted to figure _himself_ out. The fact from his simulation burned his thoughts….The only enemy he truly had was himself. Why did he even subconsciously think that? He could support the thesis that Lyle was some kind of 'beautiful' monster. The kid knew just as much as anyone, there was a very dark force inside of him, one that was very dangerous. James saw it…then Amata, it trickled down from there, to branch out and flood over into his life. Everyone he knew **now** probably could see it like a thorn halo over his head. At first Lyle killed to save his own ass, then thought that he was justifying why people _deserved_ to die. He lost a sense of the truth though. Vin was the only guilty he killed, the rest was blood on his willing hands. Blood he'd _regret_. In fairness Ronald died due to protection, but was it really for himself? Or was it the anger and spite burning inside of him that pulled the trigger. They were the same accomplices behind the plot to murder James. What made Lyle think they abandoned him all of this time? His beautiful emerald green eyes didn't conceal anything; in fact they probably projected the terror within him. There was a twisted and sadistic being waiting to be released, but he was trying his best to contain it.

It was frightening to think that there almost seemed like _two_ personalities in his head, one that latched onto the small inch of humanity and the other that tried to destroy all insignificance left. He was at constant battle with himself and it was frustrating. Rather inescapably frustrating. No matter how much it annoyed him though, he never took the time to sit down and sort out his inner demons. He just fed into the abundance of flaws. All these thoughts flooded his mind as he rode his bike across the desert land of the Capital. The wind lashed past his cheeks and whipped his hair. Buddy was curled up into a ball, sleeping in Lyle's lap. Their method of traveling really wasn't dysfunctional. The runt mole rat rode with his master on the bike. Windlaw used his engineered genes to run, strangely managed to keep up. I-Van could float, fly with the same mechanics the bike had. The decision to leave was an accurate one, so after a wonderful night, they left.

Sierra was to remain at Smith Casey's, considering she was now a partner of Lyle's. Someone needed to watch his lab in his absence. As of right now though, it was the only place he could ever even really consider a home. It was **his** sanctuary. He tried all he could to grip onto the small fragments of his life, tried to make them mean something to him, but every attempt failed. It all just felt so _empty_. Maybe it was because he knew the answer, an answer he refused to accept. Without James, his life was meaningless. He never made anything of himself, he just grew up in the Vault and lived by their rules, rebelling, but he at least had something presented to him to go against. Out in this world, it was very hard to make decisions, to truly know the meaning of his life. This was something he needed to figure out….something he couldn't talk about, but simply try to assess and resolve.

When people were faced with the end, what did they do? People found means to survive, they chose to believe in something or hollow out their misery with alcohol. Windlaw existed to explore, to learn, the man wanted adventure. Sierra survived, but found happiness in making her pies and emitting that home-welcome glee. There were all sorts of characters out there, with plenty of reasons to live. They found purpose; they found what made them happy. Lyle was never happy to begin with, even in the Vault, he acted out and got into trouble because he wanted to know what it was like to _live_ to _feel_. Being out here just magnified his little world and exposed it for the pathetic existence it was. Instead of trying to figure out why or how or what made him feel so empty, perhaps he should be searching for what makes him happy. As the wind burst past his ear drums, his green eyes stared at the horizon, the sun setting at his back. Christening the world to a dark blanket of ash and orange fire. The air started to get cooler as the sun folded under the sky.

There were a couple places on the way they had to stop at before reaching GNR. Lyle had a few too many promises to keep. The first, most valued promise, one to Gob; his first true ally in the Wasteland. The second was to Sierra on a rather aggravating note. She wanted Lyle to go to the Nuka- Cola Plant and get a bottle of the experimental Nuka- Cola Clear. That's even IF they made any. What was so special about it? Lyle admitted that the glowing substance was amusing and delightful to look at, but he didn't understand the _addictive_ qualities, just the municipal ones. Either way, he promised he'd 'look' for it. His promise consisted of word to Carol and a possible autograph from Three Dog, who Lyle has yet to meet. He squeezed the brakes and the bike hovered to a stop, parking in front of the protectron of Megaton. _"Welcome to Mega-ton Pard-ner"_ the deteriorating voice back crackled. I-Van fluttered to his mechanical kin. "Hawlllooo." He responded back, rather giddy as usual. "Megaton….MEGA-TON…_mega__**-ton**_." The bot chimed. Lyle lowered his chin, trying to stay calm because any more aggravation would make his temple burst. "Hawlllloooo." I-van sang. "I-VAN SHUT UP! JESUS!" Lyle yelled, startling Buddy from his nap. The rodent peered around with beady black eyes. This was where his master first found him, right outside Megaton. Windlaw was never really anywhere, except Vault 87, Clifftop and Girdershade. They all traveled together, but there were still so many secrets kept from each other.

His green hues examined the tall, rusted, steel wall. Those walls were very good at keeping the sound in, but Lyle had a feeling that Megaton changed just as much as Girdershade since the last visit he had here. He demounted the bike and looked up the wall. It was very hard to distinguish in the night, but he knew this was a good place to be. A short smile tugged at the corner of his ragged lips, still swollen and split from the fight with Ron. The Earth shook slightly as Windlaw drew closer to stand beside his comrade. They both surveyed the 'great wall' of Megaton. **"This place is amazing.**" Windlaw commented, though the giant never saw the interior of the city. A bright light flared and illuminated the ground as a ray shot past their faces, landing in a smoking circle imprinted on the ground. _"IVAN IVAN IVAN IVAN! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE. KILL KILL KILL KILL!"_ the eyebot shrieked as red lasers shot out of the small barrel attached to his under belly. Those 'spasms' Lyle mentioned earlier? Yea….

They both just held very still, not daring to move, only holding their breath as they hoped to god I-Van had poor aim. "Windlaw…."Lyle whispered as I-Van continued to rampage. "Don't…move….." he instructed through clenched teeth. A few more seconds passed by as the bot twirled in the air, spun in circles and even dropped flat to the ground. As though nothing happened he started floating in bliss. "Hawwwwlooooooo." He cheerfully said, repeated by acknowledging inanimate objects. Both of them eased the tension in their shoulders. This place definitely wasn't home, but something about it brought a smile to Lyle's face. It was the simple things; that may have not seemed to be the priority of Lyle's mind, but he wasn't ignorant either. Sometimes all it took was a familiar place, a tender sound or a sweet smell to cause a burst of joy in a person. They could be burned or taken away, but that memory will always be his. That's why people were sad things to remember when they were gone, it was a memory you _shared_ not one you _owned_. His sore lips pulled into a frown.

That was why being 'in love' was dangerous; now he was so much more vulnerable. Why didn't he just stop? Well now….Lyle understood why they called it _complicated_. It was an anonymous feeling, that is present for a very long time, feed into it because it feels….good. Then…the 'lightening strikes' because finally, the audacity of becoming self-aware prevails. One realizes they are in the incarceration named 'love'. It was a trap, a trap the human body developed for self-destruction. Lyle **knew** all of this, yet here he was caught in the spider's web. That just proved even the smartest, or the men that felt **empty** could fall into this predicament. That was the best way to describe how he felt, was utterly indifferent, like there was a vast void plaguing his soul. This was a canyon that wasn't caused by James, no, Lyle knew better than that. It was something he was born with, something eating away at him until he found peace with himself, but he never knew exactly what it was….yet. There was plenty of damage James caused, but there was still a lot there to begin with, for whatever reason. Lyle just couldn't figure it out; How, What, Why? He was a brilliant young man, but he just couldn't wrap his head around himself, which seemed like the simplest task.

Who was h-….. "I-VAN! SHUT THE FUCK UP! I MEAN IT DAMMIT!" Lyle yelled, feeling his lungs burn from the harsh strain of a powerful voice. _Bleep._ The bot discontinued to greet the entire neighborhood of rocks cluttering the main entrance of Megaton. That was it, his thought process was shattered, the thundering train of fire blasted through the walls of his mind and traveled to the darkest parts of his memory. "C'mon, we need to rest." Lyle muttered, walking with his bike through the grinding gate. No wonder there was always _someone_ awake in Megaton, those doors alone could tickle Tenpenny in his grave. The darkness elapsed as the bright lights of Megaton flooded the streets. This place was even more amazing than Lyle left it. Signs light brightly with neon colors and people clustered the side shops. Voices murmured but blended into one serene tune. The few buildings placed there long ago were now shoved in between compounds of new homes and shops. He could still make out the planet and the nose of the plane, but everything seemed so much more….lively.

"Alright guys…let's not get lost." Lyle instructed as I-Van glided into the nearest wall. Very few people looked at them, unlike back in the day when Sheriff Simms personally made an attempt to threaten guests. Megaton, like Girdershade grew, both places evolved and that's what humanity was supposed to do. More people stopped wandering and more decided to settle down. That's how Clifftop got so big…and Girdershade, now Megaton. Human kind was stumbling out of the ashes. He started the first steps of the crew as he walked down the wooden stair with his bike hover at his side. **"Where are we going?"** Windlaw questioned. "There's an old friend I need to see." Lyle responded, rather meek in his voice. He never felt so _sure_ of anything than seeing the one person who reached out a hand when Lyle was 'reborn'. Everyone could easily take advantage of him, tear him to pieces before he even started, but it was Gob who gave him hospitality.

Moriarty's Saloon was still standing, except the heading title differed. Gob's Pub. Another short, discrete smile tugged at Lyle's pained lips. At the time he had no idea what was happening, but after experiencing his own events, particularly being under Debris' '_care_', he now knew exactly how Gob felt when he learned of Moriarty's death. The ghoul helped the Vault Rat and in return he was granted freedom. There was no bargain, fate just worked like that. Windlaw took a few shaking steps to even himself with Lyle, following his friend's line of sight. He never witnessed such a content look on the boy's face; he could pass for 'pleased'. It could have just been the assortment of lights, but Lyle was never that fascinated with glowing things. His hands reached for the bike seat and grabbed Buddy, gently settling him on his forearm. No one could really get far on Lyle's vehicle, so he felt secure enough to leave it outside of the new named building.

He never felt nostalgic out in the Wasteland, because there was nothing really to relate to or even remember. Being here, with the smell of rust and booze was just endearing. It was such a simple memory, a brief period in his life, but Megaton, as well as Gob would hold a place in his heart forever. If anyone in the Wasteland treated him right, it was that Ghoul and Lyle was the weakest he could ever be. He'd love to tell his friend about all the adventures he's been through, but most of them weren't exactly triumphant. Speaking of which, he never accomplished anything; never found his father. All he could account for was failure. Gob's Pub buzzed with conversation and laughter. It was heavily populated compared to the last time Lyle was here. Even the radio was repaired and perfectly emitted Three Dog's voice. It's amazing how Lyle knew the host without ever meeting him or even officially listening to his channel. At Smith Casey's he zoned out to a point where he didn't even hear sound, let alone care for it.

Windlaw entered, ducking underneath the doorframe and everyone grew silent, nothing but Three Dog laughing it up through speakers. Some people itched for their side arms, but no one officially made a move. The green giant stood next to his comrade and the both of them stood in the limelight. I-Van and Buddy didn't attract any attention compared to their mutated friend. His kind wasn't commonly local, let alone civil and it was rare for an individual like Windlaw to be in Megaton of all places. In a way, Lyle began to understand why his companion was in Clifftop with the raiders. Fighting in that rink, like some brainless pet was the closest way to get accepted by humanity. Now that they were travelling, his presence would be encountered in the most uncommon places, like Megaton. "What the fuck are you looking at? Nothing to see douchebags." Lyle shouted, diverting everyone's attention back to their drinks. There was a few more seconds of silence, but one brave soul decided to break the awkward chain and soon after the room was filled with noise again.

They both walked to the bar, Windlaw practically walking on eggshells to avoid more stares. Lyle could feel the uncomfortably disposition emitting from the mutant's vibe. He seated himself on a stool, waiting for the green giant to delicately seat himself, but hold up most of his weight with his legs. This behavior was rather peculiar, but Lyle could understand why Windlaw was acting like he was in a glass shop. Except, everything was made of glass, not just trinkets on the shelves. A few citizens still threw stares once in a while, but Windlaw's strained expression didn't help 'blend in' either, nor the fact he was a green giant. It was more than obvious at this point that he was trying his best to avoid trouble, bullets and scrutiny. When they first met, he learned that the monster was out in the Wasteland for adventure, but what fun was it if everyone's natural instinct was to shoot on sight? The super mutant was trying very hard to give himself a positive first impression, which is why he practically floated over the stool seat to avoid damaging it. Gob was no longer the bar tender, which was disappointing because now it became questionable if he was even still in Megaton.

The woman who was tending turned around and a familiar face appeared; Nova. She definitely changed, her boyish cut was not a shoulder length to her chest and her voice even sounded more chipper compared to her siren song. Seeing her was such a surprise, she gained a little weight, but the most important fact is that she looked happy. _"Amazing seeing see you here."_ She commented with a short smirk at the corner of her red lips. Never mind the fact that when they first met it involved sex and breakfast; it was somewhat pleasant to see her. Something about familiar faces made everything seem alright. Lyle brought his hand to his chin and leaned on the counter. "Why? Missed me that much?" he smirked quirking a brow. She amused him by letting out a short huff of laughter, but it didn't last long. _"When Moriarty was found dead, a lot of us were given the freedom to own our lives. I stayed, deciding to work at this bar as a tender. I've dropped my old profession and married a nice trader who decided to settle."_ It was nice to hear that Nova turned her life around; more like cleaned up her fucking act. "Where is Gob?" that's all he really cared about in this place, was Gob. Nova nodded, accepting the fact the young man didn't hold her close to his heart. Then again their pleasure was a professional relationship, despite the fact he paid nothing. Wasn't his fault he good looks and charm. _"Gob owns Simms' old house. Simms of course upgraded because this town got so big and populated. If you go down the ramp towards the center road, right across is another ramp, take that up to the top level and it' the first house on your right."_ She directed, briefly pausing to look at Windlaw. Gob had his own house, a bar and obviously freedom. Moriarty was another scum bag slave owner. Lyle was _lucky_ to get someone like Debris.

She was an abusive owner, but regardless, it was her who helped shape Lyle into a man. Like all human beings, she was flawed and misunderstood. All it took was a little bit of sympathy and the truth came out. Our actions do define us as people, but at the end of the day it's our choices that truly matter. Lyle chose to save Debris and in return he got his freedom. Moriarty didn't give Gob the humanity he deserved, which everyone, including Windlaw was human or started from that 'superior' race. Ghouls were dying people and super mutants were failed super soldiers. So Gob owned this place, but didn't work there. The experience probably killed any hope of making this place comfortable. Lyle just _knew_ if he returned to Clifftop the same feeling would probably sneak up on him. The human being associated everything with their memories, something as simple as a shade of color could evoke feelings they never knew they had. Ever since 112, Lyle gained a whole new found respect for the subconscious and the mysteries it stored. The mind was a complex system like machinery; everything functioned together as a whole.

The mind was the blueprints to a human being, beyond the charting of flesh and bone. Our decisions, actions, personality, judgment and problems all generated from the same organ. It caused epiphanies or devastation. Vault 112 helped Lyle take one step closer to the mirror. _Take one long look_; He'd constantly tell himself. Even before James left, his son questioned his identity. There was always something that seemed out of place, a bug eating away at him, that void that existed without explanation. Sometimes he wanted to feel his chest, just to make sure it was still patched together. "Thank you Nova." He said with appreciation. As he turned his back to walk from the bar, a strange feeling phased through him. It was the veil of a sudden sadness. Walking away from a distant memory, a _fake_ form of love and pleasure; made him realize that he just left the very thing he always wanted. For the longest time Lyle never fit in, he was incompatible and hardly understood. Out of everyone and everything, Sierra saw beyond all the darkness, all the grief. She found the real Lyle underneath the ashes, just waiting to be reborn.

Leaving Girdershade was crossing a forbidden line, one that he should have never left. He finally found a person who accepted him and loved him. Despite that, he left to pacify his own anger, how selfish. No wonder Lyle was depressed, he wrote his life with an underscore of misery. Windlaw followed him as he glided through the crowd, seeming to fade in and out of society. Just the vibe radiating off of Lyle magnified the _pain_ of feeling lost. The boy was eternally doomed to sorrow, because he was so blind to what really mattered. As much as the green giant wanted to interject and save his friend from the ditch he was slowly digging. The most he could do was let Lyle learn his own lesson, by facing his own mistakes. It tore the super mutant apart to simply stand by and watch his friend's self destruction. That was the law of humanity; constantly failing because of terrible flaw. The only reason the Wasteland existed instead of a functioning society, was human kind's imperfections.

Sierra was the birth of a whole new kind of agony. Her very name now brought up torture. It was the reality of the truth that made it so painful to bear. Lyle finally found someone to love and be loved in return, but then turned his back. The _guilt_, _regret_ and _loneliness_ started to rot his heart. He felt like an iron was about to drop to his feet, tearing through every tendon in his body. This was something he was never prepared for, any of this. James was the man who had all the answers, who told Lyle everything he wanted to know, but it was all factual instructions on life. They never discussed how to cope with or even _feel_ lonely. His father, as amazing as he was strummed up to be, had weaknesses as well. These flaws may have differed from his son's, but _Catherine_, was one. That's the most Lyle ever really knew about her, the name and the fact that she loved him dearly. Other than that, James never rekindled any memories, nor did Lyle have any of his own to reminisce. How could she have loved him? They never really ever met each other and they never will.

It is only fate that Lyle would have similar weakness, not able to handle being truly alone, especially after finding the affection from another. The first time, his own father rejected him and now, he was walking away from her. This mess between him and James was just a never ending chapter, one he was ruining his life for. Despite knowledge of this futile mission, he pressed on anyway through the door and out into Megaton's streets. There was a vast option of places to stay and settle down, create a decent life for him, but he denied himself luxury. Only because he wanted to know _why_ and kill his father to justify his terrible feelings. Was that how he wanted to live and die out here? Have his father dominate every decision he ever made? Back out in the streets, Lyle kept his gaze to his feet, knowing the basic path to Gob's house. Megaton may have grown, but the original layout still existed. Lyle couldn't even really take credit in calling this place home. No one seemed to care that Moriarty was killed. It felt good to think a good deed was done.

His thoughts always caused time to pass quickly, one thought led to another and eventually time subsided in his mind. Lyle lifted his chin to view the illuminated doorway. Just like everything in Megaton, it was a rusted metal door, molded with a handle and lock. It was nothing like Smith Casey's, but a residence nonetheless. Windlaw stood beside him with Buddy curled up in cradled arms and I-Van hummed to himself subtly. He lifted up his hand, curling his fingers into a fist and gently knocking on the doorway. Each pulse vibrated through the surface, causing the whole wall to ring. There's always going to be _one_ person in your life, who may have played a miniscule role, but made the largest impact. Sometimes it's those small, brief experiences that make such a difference, because they'll never occur again. Gob was that one person in Lyle's existence, it seemed like liberty to go back and see him. The door creased open, exposing the melted face of the previous bartender in Megaton.

His gaping mouth attempted to smile, but it merely framed his rotting teeth. _"It's nice to see a friendly face."_ He commented in his raspy tone.

Two dull eyes shifted from Lyle to the crowd behind him. _"Come on in."_ the ghoul invited opening the door to expose the tin house inside. All of them filed through, Windlaw ducking of course and I-Van smashing into the door frame before successfully making it through. The home was cozy, decorated with a lot of pre-war furniture. Despite a few charred cushion stains it was in pretty good shape. Gob didn't seem to want to watch them enter; he immediately walked into a small side room. It didn't take the ghoul long until he returned. _"I really didn't know if I was ever going to see you again, but I kept this, in case one day you did."_ He explained, his voice gurgled with every word. His hands extended to expose a folded up jumpsuit, 101 sewn across the shoulders. It was Lyle's Vault suit. The kid's brows furrowed as he examined the fabric, it really was his jumpsuit. Out of all things; he expected to see this thing the least.

"Thanks…." Lyle said briefly, instinctually reaching out for the outfit and taking it into his own hands. Now things were really nostalgic. "Why did you keep this?" he questioned. Gob didn't seem to think it was such a surprise. _"I kept it in case you wanted to come back…..return to your vault."_ He explained. It was always in Lyle's plan to bring James back, but he never thought about his jumpsuit. How could Gob have possible known that? Before he could ask anything Gob continued to speak. _"I figured you'd be coming back, considering Megaton was founded on wastelanders trying to get into the vault."_ He was justifying he reason for keeping the suit, but Lyle had to slow down the intake of information. "Wait…people were trying to get into Vault 101?" he repeated and the ghoul nodded. _"Your vault was open twenty something years ago. Vault 101 was re-opened and they only allowed a few people in before closing back up. Those people who were denied made a settlement here."_ So…..Lyle was right. James **is** going back to something out here. A frown composed on his face, the vault _was_ opened and people entered, people probably left too. How many more lies was he going to learn about?

He was just preparing now to find out that James really wasn't his father, unfortunately that wasn't the case. His green eyes lifted to view the ghoul as thoughts ran through his head. This was all just beginning to be too much…where was psycho when he needed it? Life in the Vault was simple to understand, you did what you were told and nothing bad would happen, but now he just learned that the entire society underground was lied to. LIED. They all waited in the dark with false hope of keeping safe when the Overseer played with their faith like puppets. He was losing his mind out here. The only thing in his life that was reality is the wasteland, which he was raised to believe didn't exist. His entire world just got flipped upside down. Now it wasn't just his father who was the liar and now there really wasn't a _home_. He crimpled the jumpsuit in his fists as he brought them together and plopped into the nearest chair.

Windlaw seemed rather quiet, but his eyes never left Gob as though he was waiting for something. Like he was anticipating some sort of trouble, but remained silent. Buddy still rested, curled up in the green giant's arms and I-Van was already floating around the house like it was his own. Occasionally Lyle could hear wind of low hums followed by an object clattering to the floor. Gob didn't seem too concerned about it; in fact he seemed more amused by Lyle's visit. Everyone didn't take to Windlaw very well, being a super mutant and all; people just expected trouble. His ghoulish friend seemed to have a different story; ghouls were accepted a little more easily than the mutant kind. They all diverted their attention to the smootheskin in the chair. He didn't seem to notice, still staring at the bundled fabric within his hands. The walls of reality were crumbling down all around him. Nothing waited for him at the end of the road, _nothing_.

* * *

Lyle clasped his fingers upon the crown of his queen chess piece, sliding the wood figure across the checkered board. "Check." He stated and Gob moved his king to safety. Once again another piece of Lyle's slid across the board. "Check."

"Check."

"Check."

"Check…Mate."

Windlaw snored loudly in the armchair with Buddy sleeping in his lap. The two of them loved sleeping, it seemed like they were never awake. As for I-Van, Lyle stopped babysitting him a while ago, so he could be back at Smith Casey's for all he cared. A clattered of toppled dishes proved him wrong; I-Van was still around. Who ever thought a robot that didn't have arms or legs could still be so clumsy. Gob and Lyle spent the past half hour 'catching up', more like telling each other their life story. Just like Windlaw, the ghoul advised to stay away from Psycho. It was like everyone knew something about it that just escaped Lyle's knowledge. Drugs in general were dangerous, but what was soooo special about psycho? Following his suspicion before, it was like they all knew something, but were too afraid to say it. The super mutant mentioned briefly a couple times about what Raiders did with psycho, but it still didn't justify their argument.

Gob easily admitted defeat by tipping his king so it rolled across the worn board. _"Before you go, I have a few more things for you."_ He stated. The ghoul seemed to stockpile on things for Lyle. No doubt he was appreciative, but it just proved that he was always going to be an ally. Gob stood from the chair and walked into the other room, a few muttered curses later and I-Van floated from the same doorway. What did that bot do now? Probably destroyed every valuable thing in Gob's house. The radiated fiend was able to find a home, despite the fact he had nowhere to go after Moriarty's ownership. If his friend could find a home, ten shouldn't Lyle be able to? Right now it really wasn't about who had what. It was about finding James and putting an end to all of this. Lyle jumped when the ghoul coughed for attention. He often times drifted into stages of thought; it almost seemed like sedation. _"I have a metal lighter for you. I figured with your travelling it'd be useful because not every place has power."_

The lighter was probably something he plucked from his shelf five seconds before he returned. Regardless to its origin, the idea of it was what counted. Lyle reached up and let Gob drop the small metal box into his extended palm. His fingers enclosed over it as he brought it closer to his face to examine. It was an old aluminum lighter, perfectly square with a club engraved on both sides. He flipped it open and snapped on a flame. The fire danced and his green eyes fixated on the illuminated drop. A smirk tugged from his lips as he kept staring at the waving heat source. Another loud noise created by Gob snapped him out of his trance as his eyes dropped to the coffee table before him. The chess pieces were knocked over and a few of them fell to the floor. A mask sat on top of the chess board, eyeless sockets staring back at Lyle. The face was deteriorated, but the thing looked utterly ghastly for an appealing appearance. The lips of the mask were torn and cracked like concrete, the cheeks chiseled down to where the skull would have been. His free hand extended, setting his fingers tips on the rough surface of the disguise. The grinding surface rubbed harshly against his skin as he brushed over it. The nose was barely structured and despite its deformity, there was a clear smirk crimped across the decimated orifice called a mouth. "What the hell is this?"


	15. Chapter 14: This Is No Movie Reel

Lyle pushed his Insta-Mash around his plate, watching the potatoes trudge across the glass surface. Opposing him, sat his father and Andy floated silently in the corner. The kid itched at the device on his wrist, he was so used to nothing there, it just seemed like the pip-boy was significantly heavy. "Dad?" his meek voice spoke as his big green eyes stared across the table. _"Yes Lyle?"_ James responded, lifting his chin. His father was astounding at attention. The boy caught on to the signs of full, undivided participation; a slight lift of the chin and his brows arch. He shied away from his father and glared at his potatoes. There was something on Lyle's mind, but James would wait patiently for his son to turn around. Even at a young age, the two of them could talk about mostly everything. There were some conversations that James withheld for specific reasons; some topics were inappropriate for a ten year old. A few moments of silence passed between the two and Lyle finally lifted his eyes. The both of them shared that emerald green with just a slight rim of gold. If anything, his son was the spitting image of himself, minus fiery auburn hair. "Do you miss momma?" his voice broke the solemn dinner.

* * *

His fingers still brushed across the rough skin of the strange mask Gob had set down. _"Rumors are spreading through the Wasteland, even Three Dog has been talking about a few things on the radio. They're calling you the 'Lone Wanderer', some tacky heroic name."_ now he had caught Lyle's attention, Gob , managed to slip away from explaining that this thing was, but in exchange presented an inquiry of another significant topic. "Hmmm?" he hummed arching a brow. _"What you did at Tenpenny? There's even been some word about slavers letting you go. Everyone knows about your bike, even the Enclave. Watch out kid, they're dangerous."_ Really? Everyone was hearing about what he was doing? That's strange considering he lived in West bumblefuck nowhere, not really unique because everyone else lived in east bumblefuck nowhere. He just nodded, looking very skeptical as he returned to examining the mask. Who _were_ the Enclave exactly? Like Lyle paid attention to anything out here, he was just slowly learning, but it didn't help that he had such a single focus.

"_They think they're a bunch of pure-bred humans, going around and dictating the wasteland. Most of you smoothskins aren't really bothered by them; most of you listen to their bullshit and believe half of it. Just remember kiddo, while they're waving the American Flag, they're shooting muties and rejects behind the curtain._" Despite the long time since they had last seen each other and even with the fact it was a brief meeting too, Gob never failed to be a friend. He gave him a heads up for everything and Lyle had a feeling he'd always be there to give survival advice. During their chess match, he explained what Ghouls were exactly and the pitiful fact that their brains eventually melt to mush from radiation. They lose their minds and turn feral; from there they are either killed or eventually die. It was a sad thought to think that someone as great as Gob was just slowly…._dying_. Lyle did manage to question if Windlaw's kind was the same. Apparently, it was Windlaw's place to tell because not a lot of people knew all that much about them. No one was ever really able to get up close and personal with the green giants.

Windlaw was truly unique when it came to his kind. He mentioned another like him by the name of Fawkes, but he never went into detail about the other civilized super mutant. There were a lot of things they needed to learn about each other, but neither of them made an attempt to sit down and get to the bottom of it. Lyle had a life too, he _had_ friends, there _was_ Susie Mack and all the memories that took place underground. He thought it'd be easy to relate to Windlaw, because they both came from Vaults, but it was more than obvious that the green giant's experience differed. _"That shit you did at Tenpenny's? I think I may head over there because they said it's like a ghoul haven now. Getting to that…._" Gob continued pointing to the mask. Lyle was still staring at it. _"That is a Ghoul Mask."_ Finally, it had a name. It seemed like the wasteland was full of these little quirky items; the Iron Maiden, The Quantum Flower and now a Ghoul Mask. One thing was for sure, it was far more exciting than anything he ever had in Vault 101. Now, the Iron Maiden compared to the Quantum Flower; significant difference in purpose, but unique nonetheless. The metallic power fist Debris gave him still had a lot of mystery and the question now is, what does this Ghoul Mask do?

"A Ghoul Mask?" Lyle questioned picking it up from the coffee table, he felt a little more comfortable with it now that he knew the name. _"Yea, if you wear it the Ferals won't try to kill you."_ The thing was, Lyle never ran into Ferals before, he didn't even truly understand the measure of danger. According to Gob, if people really wanted to see the 'zombies', ferals were the closest thing to the horror picture show. He drew the mask closer to his face, lining up his facial features with the masks'. _"NO!" _Gob yelled, holding out a decayed hand towards Lyle. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't startled. "What?" he asked lowering the mask. _"Don't ever put it on unless you NEED to."_ A brow arched as Lyle's green eyes dropped to the disguise. This was something that was supposed to help him, right? Then why was Gob so spooky about the whole thing? "Why is that?"

"_The Ghoul Mask was owned by a fellow ghoul, Jaime. They say he went crazy, started worshiping some obelisk in Dunwich. He turned against his own friend, Billy, sacrificing the poor bastard to some dark magic god. The mask was created, no one truly knows why or how, but if a human puts it on, they become identical to ghouls. Ferals won't attack and you can gain access to ghoul only areas. Most of the subway routes are filled with them and they're the only way into D.C. I knew that's where you're going to be headed, considering Three Dog's station is in D.C. so I figured the mask would be useful. I've never tried it out or saw anyone else try, but the ghoul that gave it to me said to only use it when needed. Apparently, it's a pain to wear."_

A pain? More like gross, some dead ghoul's face was plastered into a mask. Lyle would use it if he really had to, but the very thought of it on skived him out. "Thanks Gob…Actually…..thanks for everything. I'll be sure to get word to Carol and an autograph. I owe you….big time." He said as he stood from the chair. Windlaw's snoring came to an abrupt stop as he stumbled out of his seat, holding Buddy like a baseball. The rodent loved the giant, they always slept and snuggled. Lyle wasn't the _cuddly _type. At the end of the day though, Buddy would come and sleep by his master's feet into the late hours of the night as he worked on science projects. That animal was never going to leave Lyle's side; there was just a feeling deep in his gut that told him Buddy would be there until the very _end_. He was smart, capable of surviving and somehow understood everything that was said to him. "Before we go….Do you know how to get to the Nuka-Cola Plant? I made a promise that I intend to keep." He asked.

Gob smiled, at least attempted to with his crooked mouth. _"Y'know….A man who keeps his promises will find himself a lot of friends."_ He said like an old proverb. _"The Plant is directly south from here; it's about a day or two on your bike. I don't know what's on the way there. Raiders, Super Mutants, Deathclaws…anything. The further you travel, the stranger it gets. You won't have a lot of friends among the monsters. I do know that there's a metro station directly east of the plant, you can take that to get into D.C. As for paying me back, you gave me freedom, that's more than enough. Good luck smoothskin."_ He extended a flesh eaten hand towards the human. A grimace curved from Lyle's lips as he took the hand and shook it gently.

* * *

James' mouth flattened to a frown and his expression emptied. Catherine was a very touchy subject, whenever she was brought up; James tried to avoid it like the plague. All Lyle ever wanted to know was who his mother was. He never grew up with her, never got to hear her voice. Not one single memory of the woman and it was only curiosity that persisted. _"Of course I miss her. I miss her so much. Each day, more than the last. It's just you and me now, that's all that matters."_ He confessed. "_Just know that your mother, she loved you, she loved you __**so**__ much. Don't ever forget her favorite passage, Revelations 21:6 ; __I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely. " _and then there was never anything else discussed. The most Lyle ever knew about his mother was that she loved him and that she favored some biblical quote. What was so special about it? James recited it all the time and even a printed copy was framed, hanging up on a wall in Lyle's room.

* * *

His father always spoke of 'a cure', like the vault was always sick, but now that Lyle was aware of the truth. It seemed to all make sense. James was telling his son the entire time, right into his very ear, but so subliminal it'd be impossible to determine. He was trying to cure the world, this wasteland. Everyone always said his father was a good man and now he could see how selfless he really was. Despite all of the good morality, it just made Lyle angrier. Why couldn't he bring him? Why couldn't they work on whatever it was together? Why did he have to leave? The fury started to build up again; he could feel it tense up his muscles and grind his teeth. A fist pounded into the metal wall of Craterside Supply; Megaton's center of trade. He didn't mind the pulsation of pain tingling his ligaments; the excruciation was a pleasant distraction from the monster inside. It just keeps happening, the pain. Why? Why did he keep letting it burn? He should have learned by now that this wasn't entirely about James, this was about _himself_. Regardless, he **made** himself suffer, like he needed to be punished.

His father's departure wasn't because of Lyle and the logical half of his son knew that, but the tattered remnants of his heart _felt_ differently. He forced himself to constantly question; Why? As though there was something he did wrong that forced this decision. All of his life, he struggled, attempting to be found _perfect_ in his father's eyes. Why though? Why did Lyle push so hard for so long? He had this desire and yet he caused trouble in 101 anyway. There was always disappointment weaved for his father. Perhaps a very subtle thought was convinced that Lyle may have felt _responsible_ for James' unhappiness. Catherine. That may have been the source of that unexplainable void growing within him since the beginning of memory. She was never someone they talked about, hence never making peace with himself and never forfeiting blame. This all started from the beginning, literally, from the day he was born and this journey needed to be the end of it.

He pried his enclosed fingers from the wall, feeling agony bury deep underneath his flesh and force out blood from torn skin. Once again, Windlaw was forced to watch as Lyle tear himself apart. It wouldn't be too long until he'd find a way to _destroy_ himself. The giant really didn't want to face that fact, but it was clear as day. The imprint of self destruction lingered in the pit of his very soul. Maybe Lyle would be a great person, just like he always wanted, but nothing was set in stone. All of it was just a mystery waiting on baited breath. His action done in anger helped him wake up and snap back to reality. He examined the dent in the wall, breaching his mouth open to release a pant. Sometimes, he surprised himself with his own capabilities. They needed supplies, which was why they all stood outside the Craterside Supply. Without explaining himself, Lyle took the lead into the building. At this point in time, the abrupt signs of frustration were self-explanatory and the crew knew better than to ask.

Inside Craterside Supply, it was musty with an odd smell that nearly burned the hair follicles out of Lyle's nose. A head peeked up from behind the counter, some brunette woman with ridiculously large tinted goggles overt her eyes. The one distinct feature Lyle paid particular attention to was the mustache. _"Oh Hey!"_ the woman exclaimed in an obnoxious tone. _"You must be new here! I've never seen you around here before."_ This woman put Sierra's _act_ to shame with stupidity and sunshine. The very sound of her voice made Lyle cringe; he could only imagine how the others felt. I-Van already made himself at home, floating over to the mercenary leaning against the back wall. _"Hewwwllloooo."_ He beckoned, which just wasn't good, the man looked pissed off enough to spit acid at people, let alone deal with I-Van's idiocy. Then again if he worked for this crazy lady, there shouldn't be a problem, right?

"I'm just looking for some med supplies and food. That's all." Lyle explained, a part of him wanted to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. _"Well! I've got what you're looking for. I can't help but ask if you wanted to test out my experiment."_ She buzzed on. Jesus, was it this woman's birthday or something? "Experiment?" he made the mistake of seeming interested. A part of him was, with partial fear, but he couldn't help being intrigued by invention. _"Well, Yes! You see. I've been wanting a traveler to test out my invention. It's a mole rat repellant and I want to see if it really works."_ After informing him the name of her creation, Lyle's eyes grew and he could feel his temple pulsating. A….**Mole**…**Rat**…_**Repellant**_. Windlaw clapped his hands around Buddy to hide the runt from the woman, but his eyes shifted to his human friend. He lifted an index at the woman, but didn't speak. The words just didn't come to his mind; he was still battling being bewildered. "Let me get this straight….You want me to test a repellant for mole rats?" he repeated, just trying to wrap his head around the topic. _"YEA! That'd be it! You want to do it? My name is Miora and the reason I want you to test it out is because I'm writing a survival guide for new wastelanders. People like the Lone Wanderer on the radio."_ She gushed.

He frowned slightly as he closed his eyes and extended his hand. "Give it to me." He requested. Windlaw released a light gasp and I-Van was still in La-La-Land with the Merc in the back. Miora squealed with excitement as she lowered her hands behind the counter and retrieved a stick with slimy yellow goop on one end. She walked around and handed it to him. Lyle's fingers curled around the circumference of the staff and he opened his eyes to observe the weapon. "So….Miora is it? Did ya ever sit and wonder, what kind of things live in the wasteland? Out of all the shit that's **dangerous** out there, you choose something that hardly bothers _anyone_. Me the least of all people. Raiders, Deathclaws, Enclave and the ONE thing you decide to repel are mole rats?" he lectured. The giddy smile faded from Miora's face as she listened to Lyle belittle her. His green eyes shifted to the merc, who was gleefully distracted by I-Van. For some odd reason the man was amused by the robotic moron.

"You see, Miora….I own a mole rat. They actually make very great pets. So, this repellant here, you can shove it up your ass." His hands gripped the edge of the stick and he swung it like a baseball bat into her left kneecap. She yelled as her back hit the floor harshly. Lyle watched as the yellow goop started to burn through the blue fabric of her dull jumpsuit, eventually it started to tear into her skin. "Whoa…." He stated, a little shocked by the effects, but then again how was he supposed to know it was going to do that? She kept screaming, but mainly calling for help. His fingers lost grip of the stick and it clattered to the ground as his mouth still gaped open from surprise. He slowly lifted his gaze to examine the merc staring at him with I-Van floating a few feet away from the man's head. "Any complaints?" Lyle inquired quickly, trying to smooth over this whole situation. That mercenary was capable of putting a bullet in anyone's head before they even had time to be afraid.

The merc's view lowered to Miora who was begging for help. He let out a short laugh and shrugged briefly as he stood from the wall to exit without any problems. Even though he was hired help, he didn't seem too attached to his employer. He shock on his face flattened out as his green eyes still stared at the anomaly. Most people wouldn't have even had the balls to attack her, but even if they got this far, how would they _feel_? Without any more words, he stepped over her and started to raid her supplies. His hands skimmed through piles of garbage and he put useful gear into his bag. _"Please! Stop! Have Mercy!" _Miora continued to cry, but it didn't phase him at all. If more people had mercy, Lyle wouldn't be where he was. There was no such thing, no sympathy. The human race was built upon destruction, damage and slaughter. Just because he grew up sheltered from it, why would he make a difference?

After plucking the last valuable from her shelf he turned to her and knelt down, sticking a stimpak needle into her leg. He may have been a monster in a lot of ways, but he did have a heart. The faint organ still managed to beat despite fighting extinction. Miora was gasping and starting to form the right words in gratitude, but before she could vocalize anything Lyle's fist hit her skull harshly. The woman was now unconscious and fell limp towards the ground. That was the last thing he wanted to hear; _thank you_. Miora wasn't entirely a bad person, even though Lyle wanted to find just the tiniest excuse to kill her. There is where the problem lay; he was starting to _want_ to kill people. Plan it, grudge for it. That parasite was digging a little deeper every day. He slowly stood, looking indifferent upon the woman's body. The question was; Did Sierra _really_ see him for the monster he really was? That same darkness that scared Amata, did she really see it? Even accept it? Or was she just lying to herself to justify her feelings?

His green hues lifted to stare aimlessly at the wall. He could still feel her skin against his, even recalled every detail in the shawl that draped over her bare shoulders. The sweet smell of her natural aroma that fumed in his senses. Lyle still couldn't believe it, but he had feelings for her, not just any; he _loved _her. The sole of his boot kicked the stick across the floor so it clattered against the back wall. Turning to Windlaw, he pried the rodent out of the giant's hands. Taking Buddy and placed him neatly over his forearm, just the size of a football to cradle. Without saying anything he left the building, I-Van and the mutant following. Outside there was no sign of the merc, nor was there any commotion to show he went to get help. Of course, he wouldn't go get help, he _was_ the help. Lyle's ruckus probably meant the ending of an employment, but that merc didn't seem to mind too much. The compassion of people was just enthralling; to test where their loyalty stayed and what exactly forced them to betray it. Vault 101 was full of flaw and Lyle enjoyed pushing the limits, but now that he was in a bigger playpen, the options were endless.

He, like most of the vault residents released into the 'wild', had disassociated problems with society. A lack of sympathy and poor people skills. Unlike most, he wasn't cluster phobic, or frightened by large crowds, or the outside. There did exist a slight fear of drowning, something about water just kept re-appearing. It was probably because that bible verse was engraved into Lyle's brain by the time he was six. All about water, life and Jesus crap. Why did people have faith in things that could so easily let a person down? Megaton worshipped an atom bomb for Christ sakes. They're lucky it didn't detonate, so instead they worship it. The wasteland was just full of a bunch of crazy people. 'Oooo, look a peppermint candle, let's worship it, it'll save us from doom' it was all just a load of bullshit in Lyle's opinion. James had a more 'old world' religion, Christianity. They followed everything that was written in a book, the Bible. Catherine and James shared the same beliefs, but unfortunately, it wasn't genetic. Lyle didn't have faith in _anything_, but himself and his own capabilities.

If he **did** believe in some intangible force in the sky, he'd constantly provoke it, test it and question; Why? There were so many questions about creation he'd ask, he'd even doubt _fate_, but to spare himself the agony, he chose to remain stagnate when it came to beliefs. There was nothing left in Megaton to do, he paid respect to Gob and resupplied, so now it was time to move on. The route was already planned; go south to the Nuka-Cola Plant and then East to the metro. It seemed like a few more baby steps and he was just at the tip of grasping James. He was finally going to find the man. As he continued to walk through the city towards the front gate, he was contemplating what he'd actually say to his father once they met. The conversation was something that would just happened. He couldn't plan out some long speech to rant before putting an end to James' life. The giant metal doors screeched as they slide towards the sides, opening to expose the Wasteland.

It was dawn, so the sun started to peak from behind the metal heap. The sky was still indigo with a flare of pink as light flooded onto the Earth. South. Lyle lifted his right wrist and glanced at the compass built into his pip-boy. A lot of people questioned why he had his pip-boy on his _right_ hand. The answer was very easy, he is left-handed. Why do you think they wait till you're ten? Everything is exposed at a young age, old enough to know behaviors, to judge where it goes, but young enough to learn its usefulness before obligated to use it after the G.O.A.T. He pivoted to his left and stared at the rusted horizon. The Nuka-Cola Plant was somewhere down there. His finger pressed a button on his pip-boy and a green light blipped. A few seconds later the bike came hovering to his side. Lyle mounted his invention, neatly putting Buddy in his lap. He reached up to his forehead to pull down the biker goggles over his eyes.

Lyle didn't take off just yet, because the sound of whispering voices over-toned the rev of the bike's engine. He turned his head to look at Windlaw, who was facing the entrance of Megaton. Following the giant's gaze, he spotted a congregation of people collected near the mouth of the city. They all murmured to each other, but stared at Lyle. _"It's the Lone Wanderer." _He couldn't help, but let his jaw drop from shock. Gob was telling the truth about word getting around, but the way people gawked at his presence was almost….._encouraging_. If only they knew the truth, the ugly truth behind the whole existence of Lyle in the Wasteland; kill the very man that created him. Would they still praise him then? He didn't understand what his invention meant to people; _evolution_.

* * *

Hiya Guys! Hope you're liking it so far! I'm glad to see a few new subscribers. Please review, I'd love to see what you think, or even read some ideas! The little fun fact for all of you in this chapter: Lyle is Left-Handed, so he has a Right-Handed Pip-Boy 3000. Happy Halloween! Now go get some CANDY!


	16. Chapter 15: With Every Move I Die

All alone, it's dark and cold.  
Here I go, this is my confessional.  
A lost cause, nobody can save my soul.  
I am so delusional.

Payback is sick, it's all my fault.  
Just fighting to get through the night.  
I'm faded, I'm broken inside.  
I've wasted, the love of my life.  
I'm losing it.

* * *

Traveling was something he favored. It was time he really thought was _his_. Time alone. I-Van floated on his own, weaving in weird zig-zags and Windlaw raced with super mutant speed. What was he? A hero or a villain? Three Dog was talking about him now too, so how long would it be until James got whiff of his son's presence? If rumors kept spreading around like this, Lyle's window of opportunity may close. His green eyes spotted buildings peaking over the horizon and he gripped the handle brakes. Coming to a stop, he set his foot down into the dust. Windlaw ceased next to him and I-Van just kept going. _"What is it?" _the giant inquired. There was the rubble of a broken city before him. Lyle never saw much of previous civilization, but this was the most polluted area of history. Windlaw speculated the scene before them; the giant was smart because it didn't take him too long to catch on. _"The closer we get to the D.C. area, the more we'll see of the pre-war era. We'll see more of my kind too…."_ His strong voice seemed to weaken after he stated the facts. More of **his** kind? Lyle never met any other super mutants, but he heard plenty of stories.

Were they really that terrible? Apparently, they were in the top five things to fear the most in the Wasteland. He lowered his gaze to Buddy curled up in his lap. The rodent made it this far with Lyle and despite the comparison; the challenges were just going to get worse. Everything out here seemed terrible to Lyle, but in the end there was always something _worse_. That was the frightening part, he really didn't know what to expect. The mole rat lived this long, with and without his master, so he'd be ok if they ran into trouble. Out of all of them, Windlaw and Lyle were the priority targets. His hand gently stroked the rough skin of Buddy. After everything he has been through so far, he still found himself _afraid._ James made it this far, right? Then again Lyle was convinced James wasn't meant to die in a vault, nor was the man born in one either. He nodded slowly, as though he was assuring himself something.

Lyle was capable of great things, if surviving the Capital Wasteland was one of them, then hell he'd do it. His hands wrapped around the handles and he darted off. The wind whipped past his face, biting the edges of his ears as the bike blazed through the air. Every pulse of atmosphere he tore through, it felt like it shuttered the anger inside of him. Something about getting closer to his goal infuriated him more than appeased him. _"Lyle!"_ Windlaw's loud voice beckoned from behind. He straightened up and looked over his shoulder at the mutant extending a hand out. What was he going on about? Lyle turned back to look ahead of him, but he saw what Windlaw was harping about to his left. The corner of his green eye caught a large shape launch into the sky.

That time that everyone mentions, where your life passes in your eyes when you are just about to die. Lyle expected it to happen, but instead time seemed to drag on, move at a miniscule scale. Every single detail of his _death_ would be taken in as though reading the fine print of life. The large creature collided with the bike and Lyle felt his weight shift in the opposing direction. His shoulder scraped across the moving ground and snapped his arm back, swinging the front of the bike towards the Earth with him. The free hand moved quickly to let go of the bike handle and grab Buddy, enclosing the rodent near his chest. His body rolled away from the bike that kept flying, leaving Lyle, broken on the ground and the attacker. He felt a numbing sensation swell in his back as blood filled his throat and trickled from his parted lips. An exhale of breath escaped his lungs and his arms loosely fell to his sides. His green eyes dazed as he saw the sky flurry in disorientation. What the hell just happened? He shifted his gaze to see three Buddys floating in circles above his chest, but none moved.

His mouth gaped open, but he couldn't say anything, just a breath full of pain stung his chest cavity. Suddenly, the sky went dark and he frowned. The sky didn't get dark, there was a giant thing standing above him, blocking the sun. His vision stopped vibrating and burying his world in confusion. The fuzzed shapes settled into defined lines and exposed a creature Lyle never witnessed before. It had dry scaly copperish skin, with tiny yellow eyes and two large horns sticking from its skull. He felt fear grip his heart so tightly that it refused to beat. The creature resembled Satan himself, this coming from an unfaithful man. This beast lowered its head so the tip of a ridged, sharp toothed jaw barely brushed Lyle's nose. The pain was so excruciating, he couldn't even move to escape, just lay there paralyzed. He could smell the foul stench of this creature's breath lather his face. It parted its razor jaw and let out a rumbling roar. A distinct sound that trembled in the deepest cockles of Lyle's soul. He was still waiting for that reel of memories. Perhaps he was expecting his life to end too soon? As saliva from the monster's mouth spritzed onto his face, he was positively sure that he was going to die. The shadow of the beast was pushed from sight as Windlaw plowed into its side.

Lyle just laid there, staring up at the bright sky, feeling his warm blood brush down his cheek. He couldn't even turn his head to survey Windlaw pummeling whatever it was that attacked him. Everything in his body just felt numb….so broken. He choked on his own blood as it spurted from his mouth. It started to seep from his nostrils as his eyes shifted to try and speculate Windlaw's battle, but nothing. The only thing he could think: _Help….Help Me._ How was the super mutant going to help more than he already was? Where the hell did I-Van go? Why was he even caring? All he wanted right now was _someone_ to help him. Make the pain stop. Time just seemed to drag on; a second was like a thousand years. He started to feel a chill freeze his muscles, starting at his feet. Buddy was now awake, but weak. The rodent struggled, but crawled to one of Lyle's collapsed hands. His snout nudged the limp gently and then licked his master's thumb. Even the attempts from his pet didn't ease the suffering inside his body. Then…..it occurred.

* * *

Lyle huddled over the desk, scribbling on a piece of scrap paper. His left hand moved to jot down integers and calculate the equation. He shifted the paper to show his father. "There? Forty five?" he inquired with a voice of excitement. James took the paper and speculatively stroked his chin."He placed the scrap back down in front of his son. The boy was just eight years old and already learning. His father took the pencil and demonstrated for the kid. "_You've got to carry the one, so put the five there and the one goes there."_ The lead sketched out his instruction. "_See easy_?" Lyle took the paper and glanced at it, connecting the missing pieces from his equation to understand his mistake. The little boy stared at the paper and his face distorted with sadness. "I wish momma was here." He mumbled. Not that he didn't love his father, but the child longed for his mother a lot. James' expression showed sympathy as he moved to hug his son. "_It's you and me now, ok?" _He assured as his palm gently brushed Lyle's head. His auburn hair was matted down by his father's comfort. "_You and me, but that's fine…as long as we got each other. __**That's all that matters**_."

* * *

He could feel tears streaming from the corners of his eyes. All Lyle had to do was _breathe_ and it'd all be ok, but a part of him didn't _want_ to. Was that really **all** that mattered? Was it truly that important if James would throw it all away? He swallowed a wad of blood and it coated his throat with a sulfuric taste. Just _breathe_. The pain in his body burned every tendon, every organ and he just couldn't move. There was not an ounce of hope within himself to try. All of his life, he was taught certain values; he was told certain rules to only lay here in shambles, to feel nothing but pain. The light was clotted out once more as Windlaw's figure came into view. Just _breathe_. Lyle's chest cavity expanded as he forced air into his lungs, fighting every sting of agony. James may have lied to him, he may have felt betrayed beyond repair, but it didn't mean his life was _worthless_. There were people like Windlaw, who, in a sense, needed Lyle just as much as he needed him.

His time didn't come yet. It wasn't his time to die, but it felt dreadfully close. Windlaw's ginormous hands scooped underneath Lyle's broken body and lifted him feeble into the air. Buddy still curled up on his torso. Where was he taking him? Where were they going? Did it even matter? Lyle's figure was just a rag doll in Windlaw's massive grip. All he could see was the bottom of the giant's chin and the sky passing overhead. This was twice now. Lyle's ass was saved by the fiend for a second time. There were more friends than just Gob. Ever since Clifftop, he should have known the heart within this beast. He was truly unique compared to the terrors of the Wasteland. Ironically, he was a part of the worst. A smile tried to form from his lips, but his mouth was so sore he couldn't even attempt to move it. Lyle would have to thank Windlaw some other time.

* * *

_**A few hours later….**_

Lyle's green hues opened and adjusted to the dim lit setting. There was a bonfire crackling inside an old garbage can and he could hear the low hums of I-Van singing. His fingers twitched as his muscles started to thrive once again. He examined several empty stimpaks cluttered on the floor near him once more. That was probably _all_ the supplies he looted from Craterside. Regardless, that's what they were for. His hand moved and stroked Buddy's back, who was silently sleeping, still curled up against Lyle's chest. _"He never leaves your side….." _Windlaw's loud voice stated. It drew the human's attention to the other side of the bonfire. The giant was holding a stick above the flames, frying what looked like bloatfly meat. Windlaw shook his head briefly. _"You're lucky Lyle….to have such loyalty."_ He stated, lifting his small eyes to stare at him. Still sore from the previous attack, but healed, he struggled to sit up from the cot he was placed in. Fighting the urges from Windlaw to relax, he forced himself up, placing his feet on the dusty floor.

They both exchanged looks, silently meeting glance. "Thank…you." Lyle stated slowly, his voice vocalized in a mere whisper. Windlaw nodded and smiled, the giant seemed to like gratitude. It may have distinguished him from his kind, which in the end probably helped his confidence. "Windlaw?" he continued. _"Yes?"_ Lyle frowned slightly, pulling his tense muscles so that he had more mobility. "Why are you different? So long ago we met in those cells….and I was never able to ask you much of anything about your life in the vault. How did you even find one twelve?" he interrogated meekly. The mutant seemed…..impressed that Lyle asked. Finally, someone inquired about _his_ life and treated him…..fairly. "_My vault…was the source of experimentation. Something called the FEV Virus. I __**read**__ about it on some terminals, some sort of Super Soldier program the pre-war government assembled. I wasn't always like…this. I was human, just like you. Windle Lawson. I was the Vault's teacher. I guess you could say…intelligence was always on my side. My dear friend Fawkes….saw it before it all happened. He constantly spoke insanity, when in reality it was true."_

The beast shook his head once more, lowering his chin. _"We were all just guinea pigs. Waiting in the dark. My mind was resistant and I held onto that inch of humanity. That inch was lost as all of my friends, my family went insane, grew violent. Started to kill and desire more. Their words broke down and their minds burned with fury."_ His giant hands lifted to his skull. "_Even I feel it, the acid burning my brain. It makes us numb our minds, try to deal with it."_ The large ligaments smoothed over his bald scalp. _"My life in the vault wasn't much of a life, Lyle. It was a prison until I broke free. Fawkes barricaded himself in a cell, somewhere he couldn't escape, he couldn't hurt people. Even __**he**__ lost some civility. All the vaults were rigged. All of them were experimented on. Seven were untouched by toxins, chemicals or controlled factors, but they were tested on with different sources of energy, different forms of leadership. Only __**one**__ was built to the public's expectations. All those people two-hundred years ago, signed up and walked into traps. "_ Windlaw's hands lowered into his lap. Lyle frowned at the information. He was a part of some experiment? All of them were? His green eyes lifted to look at the mutant. Lyle could have been a giant green thing too?

So where _was_ his home? Did Lyle even want to go back to the vault now? _"I found one-twelve merely by curiosity. Most vaults were cleverly hidden, properly sealed. When I saw that power box, with nothing but __**one**__ button. I had to test it, then the door opened."_ They both knew what kind of test vault 112 had. The challenge of the mind, a place those people lived in for two hundred years. They suffered through their fears, their past-time desires, but all of it was just a figment. Like every single individual in a vault, they all lived lies. "How many are there? How many vaults?" Lyle asked, he felt a terrified disposition turn his stomach. _"Can't say my friend, two hundred, more in this country alone."_ The giant estimated. These were facts Lyle could have lived his entire life **not** knowing. All of this could be erased, if James just never left. The more time he spent out in the wasteland, the more he learned about how corrupted humanity was. Now he understood that he really _was_ lucky. Vault 101 had nothing but the G.O.A.T. to test its evolution.

"I'm…..sorry Windlaw." He managed to say, a part of him felt abnormally human, he felt…guilty. The mutant waved a hand to excuse the apology. _"I didn't leave eighty-seven for pity. None of us left our vaults for pity. We left for purpose….whether it was curiosity….or rage, but here we are. Where we're supposed to be. This is our ultimate test, the past two-hundred years has been a test. Will we make it and change from our mistakes? Or will we repeat history and fail?" _How was Lyle going to change? He set out on this wild journey to kill his father, the only human being that ever meant…_anything._ Now Windlaw was slinging a whole new perspective into Lyle's sight. What's wrong with the world? All the people in it? What would happen if he dared to cross that line? He constantly questioned what would happen after James and now he was starting to grasp the possibilities. There was option to live in the Wasteland. He couldn't make change, but he could live and live _right_. No more killing, no that wasn't even possible. If he was going to 'pass' the test, he didn't even know where the hell to start. Why did Windlaw have to be so cryptic? Why did the guy have to be so old?

Sounds like Windlaw was a part of the first inhabitants to live in eighty-seven, just like one twelve. People chosen to endure. The ghouls were naturally created from the radiation, but now it made sense where the mutants came from. Only god knew what else lingered underground. "What are you going to do Windlaw? After I find my dad." He asked. Lyle was curious to know what Windlaw thought his purpose was. The giant responded; "_You will lead Lyle…and I shall follow until our paths part."_ As for I-Van and Buddy, they really didn't have anything else cut out for them, except for being under ownership. Stuck with I-Van forever, the thought was nauseating. His green eyes looked at the dull walls of the empty room they all sat in. "Where are we?" he asked. Windlaw chuckled. "_Fairfax Ruins. It used to be small city before the bombs fell. We're about a day from the Nuka-Cola Plant._ _Don't worry, I pressed the button on your pip-boy. The bike is safe outside. A few scratches and a dent, but nothing serious. You sustained more damage."_ Speaking of which. "What the fuck attacked me?"

He could feel the rotten breath of that creature stagnate his cheeks. _"A Deathclaw."_ Windlaw exposed the named of his attacker. Those razor teeth, that roar and those yellow eyes. Lyle swore his heart stopped beating and he probably died of fright before anything. It completely took him out on his bike, meaning it was incredibly fast. That thing could have killed Lyle if the impact didn't first. Windlaw saved him, but with the price of a few wounds to show for it. Despite the shadow shrouded between the both of them, he could still see a few patches of shimmering blood stained on the mutant's green flesh. Thank you just didn't cover it anymore. Lyle owed Windlaw and he'd die trying to pay it back. This mess all spawned from _one_ feeling; betrayal. Slavery, nearly dying half of the time and finding out the truth about the vaults. He was slowly losing his sanity; he could feel it dissipate in his conscience. To top it all off, out of **all** things in the wasteland, Miora chose mole rats.


	17. Chapter 16: They Say Be Afraid

His green hues fixated on the scorch marks on the ceiling of a ruined motel Windlaw brought the gang to after the attack. Fairfax ruins, used to be a small city of some sort before the bombs. The talk with Windlaw exposed more than Lyle would have liked to know, but there was no way to erase anything from his mind. There was no such thing as starting over. He wondered if James ever thought about it. Did he want to start over? Did he ever want to go back and do something different? The man was such a mystery now it was like Lyle wasn't even related. He shifted his arms and the radiated water in the tub splashed against his figure. Everything out here was radiated, but he couldn't sit here and not take a bath, that was just disgusting. He was so drenched in blood from the previous day he wouldn't be surprised if he had to wear a red shirt for the rest of this journey. The water hugged his face, lining with every bone structure in his slender jaw. He couldn't get the image or the thought out of his head; how he felt, just lying there about to die. At that very moment he was so ready to die and he never felt that way before. Who prepares for death before hand? It's not exactly something people could plan. Unfortunately, once he found that he was ready to give in, he couldn't shake away from it. The diminished hope of life withered and turned into a metal nut in the deepest part of his soul.

Why did he care about finding James? Not like his father showed much care in return, for just dumping him. He lifted his hands out of the water, to watch the liquid stream down his ligaments to drip from his wrists. Was there even a point to keep trying anymore? He'd find James, serve justice, then what? Vault 101 didn't seem like home anymore and out here was never home either. Why did he even have to look at it as though he needed a home? Deep down inside, all Lyle wanted was a place to be accepted. As much as he was violent, detached, he was human and had a heart. He longed for affection, acceptance and happiness. He could look at his hands to see the tools of destruction and murder, or look to examine flesh over bone. The human hands are only ligaments that vary in use, but visual aspects of ourselves to understand that underneath our choices, we're just plain and simple. Lyle was capable and did some terrible things, but he fell in love. He didn't like admitting how vulnerable he was, but there really wasn't a choice. Just like the living are meant to die, no man is immortal. Lyle was not inhuman, not in the very least. He bled, he felt and he'd die. His extended hands curled into fists and he submerged them back into the brownish bath water. The ceiling stayed in his view, tracing every damaged detail in the paint.

If only things were different, where would he be? Perhaps he'd end up in lock down at the vault. He'd be a janitor for the rest of his life and Susie Mack would eventually become his wife, he'd have kids. His life would be a dull lifeless thing that he lived for everyone else. If James stayed, would Lyle truly be happy till the day he died? He was determined to find his father regardless, but the exit sign was always on his mind, always in his sight. Sitting up in the tub he looked over the bowl and observed Buddy curled up on his pile of clothes crumbled in the corner. A long sigh escaped his lips as he lifted a hand to rub his temples, coating his skin with warm water. "_Please_, get out of my head." He muttered, keeping his voice was quiet as possible. Lyle wanted to stop thinking about how angry he was, he wanted to _forget_ James, but a part of him just couldn't let it go no matter how much it tore him up. His palms went to press on his eye lids as he tried to relax himself. Everything was just so stressful, he was fighting to find his father, but also fighting to keep his life; which he had many close calls to ending. Everyone in this crew had their problems, their own stresses. I-Van didn't appear to have any, but the robot had to have one or two things fried in the hardware.

Windlaw and Lyle progressed in a better friendship; they were able to talk about a few things, mainly their lives. Windle Lawson and his constantly mentioned friend, Fawkes. The idea of the green giant being a person just like him, was impossible. The facial features didn't even match up, never mind the fact Windlaw was a seven to eight foot monster that had to weight close to five hundred pounds of muscle. His explanation about the vaults, particularly his started to make sense, the super soldier idea fit even better. Long ago, which it now seemed like eons ago, Debris wanted Lyle to be put in that _Silent Cell_, wasn't that technology from a vault as well? Aaron explained it, but the kid was a dumbass back then. Now everything started to make sense. All the pieces were being fed to him and he was putting the puzzle together. This journey to find James was more than he expected, he was learning more about the world outside. The world he constantly used his imagination to fill, but now there were facts at the tips of his fingers. He was starting to learn; one that has knowledge of all things doesn't have the capability to know happiness. His hands moved to brush over his scalp, pushing the segment of hair for his warhawk. After James takes the bite of a bullet, he was going back to Smith Casey's. Even if he had to work on science experiments for the rest of his life, he was always more interested in engineering than cleaning toilets. Plus…..Sierra was there.

He lowered his hands to look back at the rodent sleeping in the small nest made from his clothes. Did he really want to go back to the vault? Who was waiting there for him? Amata? Pffftttttt….. Miss. Snooty two shoes who knew she had Lyle wrapped around her pinky. Now that he was able to look back at it, his life in the vault was pathetic. He treated Amata liked crap because in the back of his mind, he knew he disliked her. She came back like a puppy, because that's how she got to **him**. Nothing was there waiting for him. Maybe Andy, but that was his father's robot. James wasn't there, neither was Sierra or Windlaw, Buddy or I-Van. If he went back to the vault, there'd be no one there. Everyone he cared about was out in the wasteland. On top of that, people started to see him as some sort of hero, even if he was vigilant. It really made him question; was he capable of changing the _world_? He stood from the bowl and stepped out, letting his wet feet clot the dirt on the broken tile floor. Buddy perked his head up and crawled off of his master's clothes. He collected his wardrobe and put on his clothes. Previously, he tried as much as he possibly could to wash the blood stained out of the dirty t-shirt. Gob gave him these clothes, but after all this time it started to become a priority to renew them.

The ghoul gave him a lot and still continued to aid Lyle in his adventure. Of course, the Ghoul Mask had a little bit of a more ominous vibe compared to everything else that was gifted. Every step he took on this journey was just a never-ending walk of shame. After getting dressed he opened the bathroom door to let Buddy scurry out, but his eyes met the floating eyebot. The interesting about I-Van was that Lyle gave him what looked like a giant eye. The metal rack from the oven was the iris and the glowing green light the pupil. Of course the colors were inverted but the irony of an eyebot looking like it had a giant eye. The green light illuminated his face and reflected off of his eyes. "I-VAN!" Lyle yelled raising his hands to block his eyes. _Bleep_. The man threw his arms out sand a loud clunk echoed through the room as I-Van went flying across the room. "DAMMIT I-VAN! SPACE!" he huffed watching the eyebot twirl as though nothing happened. One of these days, he was going to 'unplug' I-Van and put him out of commission. The room was filled with a aroma of food. Windlaw was always playing 'house', at least that was the best way to put it. The giant cooked and cleaned more than Lyle did as a janitor.

The 'monster' being a previous teacher made sense though, he was very observant, intelligent and open to helping others. It really had to be inquired how Windlaw would act around children. Lyle's teacher was the same one for years before the G.O.A.T decided his fate. That was it, at sixteen you take the G.O.A.T and it didn't matter how well you did in school that was the test that decided your entire life. That **one** test. Did Lyle take it as seriously as he should have? No. Course Not. The last fucking question had six answers and all six were exactly the same. They didn't even take it serious writing the damn thing. The results were like a brick wall though, Lyle never expected his discrepancies to result in janitorial work. James was a good excuse to leave a place he already hated. He made his way to the ruined kitchen, peering in to see Windlaw cooking water in a pot. "What the hell are you doing?" he inquired as the giant responded; **"I'm making some herbal tea."** Everything was irradiated; there was nothing but bottled water that was safe from bad rads. Bottled water was hard to find too. Lyle wasn't surprised by Windlaw's information. The giant was rad free, immune to its effects, so anything but mole rat meat was on the menu. He was surprised he wasn't a stick-figure because he rarely ate when Windlaw ate almost every day.

It was probably because when he did eat, he ate a lot of whatever he could find that was edible. That and the fact he always ate Sierra's Quantum Pies…..among other things he'd love to sink his teeth into. "Well…hurry up and finish your tea. I want to be at the Plant before nightfall." It was probably mid-morning and there was something about night-time Lyle didn't trust, despite the fact nothing could see you in the dark. Perhaps that was the idea that made him nervous, he couldn't see if something was going to force him on his ass again. If anything, Lyle wanted to _see_ the thing that was going to kill him, instead of sitting in the dark, letting it slowly tear him apart. Feeling nothing but pain. Drowning was the worst fear he had for some strange reason, he really didn't know why. There were never any incidents in the vault, he just had this fear of water getting into his lungs. Windlaw nodded and turned off the burner, dumping a white cup of crumbled spices into the hot water. They all knew why they were going to the plant, one specific reason that couldn't easily be forgotten. _Sierra_. Even I-Van, who was programmed to be a moron, knew.

Lyle was a relatively angry person and having an affectionate side for a pretty girl was something everyone wanted to see. It _brought out the __**best**_ of him. He was never really happy, Windlaw knew that. Ever since he left the vault, the word happy vanished and learning the truth about the vault made him think the word didn't exist. Despite what he thought or what he tried to convince himself, Sierra made him happy. The way she smiled, spoke and laughed just forced him to smile. She wasn't Susie Mack or Amata, she was _his_.

* * *

Once again, it was time alone. The best part about travelling was being able to think. After his deathclaw attack, he made sure to scan the area, as far as he could see. Nothing wrong with being cautious, because with those sorts of situations a lot of people don't get away with a second chance, let alone a third. Fairfax eventually disappeared and spat them out into the wasteland, nothing but miles of sand. It'd be hours of dead plains before he'd see any sign of the plant. The scenery was a mere reminder of how terrible the human race could really be. Lyle couldn't change _what_ he was, but he wasn't exactly proud of his species' history. Violence, war and death were terrible things that were imprinted in human DNA. If that _wasn't_ true, then why the hell were people still fighting and dying? Slavery, addicts, murder, cannibalism. The facts were all there, survival of the fittest. Human beings had the will power to destroy, to bargain the lives of many to live. It was a twisted story, but one Lyle, himself took a chapter in. He knew he wasn't perfect, if anything he was one of the worst. Trying to kill his own father had sin reeking off of it. It was his choice, not about his morality.

Nothing was going to end. People would always die, people would always kill, it was always going to happen. He squeezed the handles of the bike and slowed to a stop, placing his feet on the ground to steady the bike. His green hues looked beyond the frames of his biker goggles and examined a horizon full of buildings. It was still pretty far away, but nothing could hide the dull red Nuka-Cola billboard on the side of one building. The plant appeared to be in another one of those small ruined cities. Success in finding the plant, but what lurked there? What was waiting for them? Nowhere was safe…_nowhere_. Even if it was populated with people, people were just as dangerous. He started up again, lifting his feet to drive closer towards the plant. It almost felt like he was rushing to paradise. The only paradise in the wasteland was paradise _falls_, it was properly named for the kind of place it was. All of that slavery business was so long ago. Lyle just felt so…_old_. Worn down like butter spread across too much bread. This trip was really taking a lot out of him. A person can only handle so much, before they _break_.

Lyle didn't think he was even close to breaking, but he knew that the day would come. The building grew until he glided into the empty parking lot in front of the plant. He slowed to a stop and demounted, keeping his eyes on the huge board screwed to the brick wall. His eyes shifted to observe a rusted metal sculpture of a nuka-cola bottle entwined with copper rings. There was no sign of trouble, no raiders, no deathclaw, no super mutants other than Windlaw. Something about this place still felt wrong. He scooped Buddy off of the bike seat and held him like a football against his torso. Windlaw took a few more steps and the ground shook with each movement of his giant friend. "Wait." Lyle ordered waving his free arm towards the mutant. "Just wait." He continued to demand. "Windlaw….wait outside, if I'm not back in an hour….come in and get me." Not that Lyle didn't trust the giant, but the sound would make it impossible to lurk about, get in and get out. Who knew what lived inside the Nuka-Cola plant. "If I need help, I'll send Buddy." He suggested. The rodent was small enough to run away and hide from trouble if they found it. I-Van started to float towards the door, but Lyle's hand grabbed one antenna. "Keep him out here with you." He hissed dragging the bot over to Windlaw. Another indecent alarm. If anyone was going to get massive attention it was I-Van being a clutz.

With Buddy in his grasp, Lyle continued to the side maintenance door of the building. It was easy entering considering someone came and looted the place. There probably wasn't anything in there, not even clear. Why was he doing this? Why for a damn beverage! This could be a nest of deathclaws for all he knew. He yanked the rusted door open, sending a loud creak through the pitch black room inside. Fumbling, with Buddy on his arm, he turned on the lights imbedded into his pip-boy. He used to use them as a child to read under the covers when it was past bed-time. The low sea foam light illuminated a small circumference around him, exposing the debris covered floor. There were several thin traced foot prints in the layer of soot, but nothing he didn't see before. How was he supposed to find anything here? It was dark and the windows were lined with so much dirt it barely lit five inches away from the pane. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Now it was just him and the darkness within the Nuka-Cola plant.

One cautious footstep further into the room, he could feel his heart pounding inside of his chest. Another step and he heard a loud crack as the sole of his boot crushed a piece of glass. "Fuck…" he whimpered, releasing a sigh. There was no reason to be this worked up, clearly there was nothing here. He loosened his shoulders from the tense position he strained himself with. "There's nothing to be worried about Lyle, just no lights." Deathclaws were too big to fit through the doors anyway. That's right use logic to relax. Really, most animals lurked outside or in caves, but most of the time only humans or mole rats lurked in buildings. That and bugs, which couldn't kill you unless you stood there for an hour and did nothing to defend yourself. Buddy would let him know if there was danger, but the rodent was already sound asleep on Lyle's arm. Clearly, there was nothing to be afraid of if the mole rat felt safe enough to slumber.

_Lyle….where are you going? Over here! This way! Turn around! Up there!_

James' voice again. He now heard it clear as day as though the man stood right beside him, except the voices beckoned from different corners of the room. The Malleus experiment did something to his brain, it engraved his father _everywhere_. That day was tragic and heroic all the same. Aaron had no problem describing Lyle as a person and a lot of good came out of it. He didn't have to save Debris, particularly _against_ Windlaw, but he did. She used and abused him for every resource she thought she could get from him. Despite that misery, he chose to save her. It may have been a stupid choice, but it wasn't one he regretted either. The toe of his shoe kicked an empty cola bottle and it rattled across the cement floor. Buddy perked his head up from slumber, but easily went back to sleep after figuring out Lyle was the source of disturbance. _You __**need**__ to know these things…_ the voices continued to whisper in the dark. His free hand extended to feel around and figure out where there were any doors. Where was clear anyway? Wouldn't it be in storage? Or some brewing lab?

He felt the surface of a rusted door and he traced his hand down the frame to open the door. The door opened easily and exposed a low dim glow. His green eyes peered into the doorway to observe one walk way stories above a pool of what looked like quantum. He had to be a few floors away from the surface, let alone the floor. Lyle carefully took a step on the mesh walkway; it creaked painfully from years of rust and neglect. In the back of his mind, he knew this wasn't a good idea, but a giant sign that said brewery and a down arrow at the opposite end forced him to continue. All he had to do was cross this and everything would be alright, right? His green eyes darted to the crystal surface of quantum, there was something _moving_ down there. The water traced lines as something swam submerged. "Fuck…." He murmured as his voice echoed through the vast room. His chest pressed against the rail as he leaned over to examine the life-form closer. It was strange, there was nothing physically there, but the quantum moved like something was there. He thinned his eyes to try and get a more precise glance of it, then he saw it. There was a collection of vibrant lavender flare that brushed over an invisible figure.

_Something_ was definitely there, but it was _invisible_. "Great…." He stated with sarcasm. Deathclaws, now there were creatures that could turn invisible. Just…..great. Standing up he turned to set the rodent down gently on the grate. "Follow me okay? Don't go further than me." Lyle instructed and the rodent ducked his head. Buddy seemed to understand what his master always said; it made things a lot easier. Cautiously, he took each step, making the walkway wail as he kept going. Whatever was down there either couldn't get up there, wasn't aggressive or didn't care that Lyle was there because there was no way in hell his presence was unknown. His heart pounded with each loud sound that emitted from his footsteps. He felt himself sink his teeth into his bottom lip as he slowly made way to the other end, he was about halfway there.

His attention kept darting to the ground, attempting to spot signs of the invisible creature, but there wasn't any evidence it was down there anymore. Was it on its way up here to have him for dinner? The possibilities made his heart pound like a whirlwind inside his chest cavity. One more step. _Where are you going?_ James' voice loudly asked from behind him. Lyle habitually spun around, to literally see a figure standing in the doorway. His eyes met with identical green hues owned by his father. "James?" he questioned, seeing the man standing in the doorway, he was really here. There was only enough time to stand astounded that he had found his father because another loud creak sounded with a snap that boomed through the room. The segment Lyle was standing on gave way and he felt his heart leap into his throat. His arms swung out to try to reach for James, but he continued to fall until his hands latched onto the edge of the broken grate. Pain started to swell in his elbows from the impact and his fingers started to pinch in the grate holes. "James!" Lyle called out straining his abdomen to try and haul himself up.

He could feel his jaw tightened as he grit his teeth together, trying to lift himself up from hanging. His eyes shifted to the doorway, the man was still standing there _just watching_."Please, Dad, Help me." Lyle called grunting as he made another attempt to lift himself up. "Dad!" he begged as he closed his eyes and tried to focus on getting over that ledge. _I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever_. James' voice responded and Lyle opened his eyes to look at an empty doorway. Was James ever even really there? Didn't change the predicament that Lyle was in. Buddy sat in between his master's arms, waiting for some sort of command. The human placed his chin on the mesh and looked at his pet. "What's up Bud?" he said, trying to hide hints of his struggle. "One of these days, Uh….gah….One of these days we're going to find a great place and grow old." He grunted as he tried to console his pet. "Never have to worry about…..gmmmmm…..Anything." his face distorted to wince in pain and he felt his fingers slipping. "Go to Windlaw….." he demanded as the rodent scurried away.

Lyle watched the pink thing disappear into the darkness, assuring himself that Buddy wasn't around before loosening his muscles. His fingers released the grate and he slid off the ledge, sending his form into the air. He felt the breeze from gravity tug him down towards the glowing surface of quantum. It wasn't too long before it felt like glass shattering over his back as he hit the liquid. His body submerged itself and he felt practically paralyzed from the pain weaving around his spine. Lyle, having the fear that he had took no hesitation to swim towards the top, breaking from the watery grave. His arms pushed the quantum to his sides as he approached a broken vat. He clutched the top and pulled himself out of the pool. His chest felt numb because his heart was pounding so hard, he could feel his nerves tingle, sparking with anxiety as he simple laid there on the metal vat. It just seemed like everything he walked into he landed on his ass. Then again that's what it meant to survive. If everything came easy, struggle and survival wouldn't exist.

The Wasteland was all about survival. He sat up when he heard a splash in the water. "Hello! Who's out there! I'm not fucking around anymore!" he yelled. Of course, if it was some sort of monster, it wouldn't be able to respond, but screaming made him feel slightly better. He hung his head and placed his palms on his forehead. Shifting his knees, he leaned his crossed arms over them and leaned into his forearms. Was this it? Only the ghost of James to constantly haunt him for whatever reason. He paused to slowly lift his head to his left. As his arm exposed his vision, the soft face of a woman appeared. She had a small smile across her pink lips, but her skin tone was practically white with some dark blue lines near her scalp. Her eyes were the bright blue color, like quantum and her hair a silk, silver-blue. "Can I help you?" he asked the beaming girl. She silently drew closer and then quickly pecked Lyle's cheek before disappearing into the glowing water. His expression opened up to shock as his green eyes widened.

"Hey!" he beckoned, standing on the vat, looking over the flat surface of quantum. "Wait!" he called out again trying to find the girl that was just there, but she was nowhere to be found. "Hello?" he inquired, was he seeing things again? Another collection of purple vibrancy shimmered in the water, but the invisible shape solidified to expose the girl that was previously there. "Hey! You!" he called as her head poked above the surface. She giggled and smiled at him from a distance. Between the both of them, Lyle was rugged, dirty and monstrous. He'd never seen anything so…_perfectly beautiful_ in his life. Her entity reminded him of the Quantum Flower. "Why did you kiss me?" he inquired crouching down so he could see her better. "_Why wouldn't I? " _She replied. Lyle frowned slightly. _What_ was she? "What's your name?" he continued to interrogate. A giggle escaped her lips as she ducked her mouth below the surface, so only her eyes stared at him. She lifted her chin up and smiled widely. "_Serafina." _Lyle grimaced in return and extended his hand out over the water. "What are you doing here?" he was trying to get the girl to come closer. _"I live here. My brothers are here too, but they're not very friendly."_ She explained. Brothers? Not Friendly? That sounded bad. "Brothers?" he asked watching her swim closer to his limb. Her hand reached up from the depths and gripped his.

"_The Nuka-Lurks…."_


	18. Chapter 17: Opened Up & Let You In

The pip boy lights illuminated the hall as he ran down the thin metal corridors of the Nuka- Cola Plant. Lyle quickened his pace behind Serafina as both of them ran from the collection of her _brothers_. Nuka-lurks, nasty crustaceans that lived in the quantum vats here. Distant cousins or things called mire-lurks. All of them were in the watery family, but it didn't exactly explain how Serafina was…civilized. She could speak and she looked like a woman. Some slight similarities in appearance, but she was very humanoid. A button nose with big round eyes and a smile that could fool anyone. Other than her palish skin with dark blue designed and gills behind her earlobes, she could pass for a siren more than a _lurk_. Something about her though seemed so familiar. Regardless of the feeling, he couldn't come to terms with it. This adventure in the wasteland seemed to be slowly turning his head upside-down. He never saw this Nuka-_Siren_ before, yet he felt like he _knew_ her. Perhaps it was the effects from so much exposure to quantum or a perk of hers.

"Serafina, is clear here anywhere?" he inquired gasping for air as he ran behind her. _"Call me Sera."_ She responded as she slowed at the corner and peered around. "Sera…Where is clear?" he questioned again, his voice in a whisper. "_Clear was an experiment. A lot of people die…..The formula is on any terminal here. There's __**one**__ proto-type bottle upstairs in the old owner's office. It's in a safe."_ She explained. Her big blue eyes shifted to look over her shoulder at Lyle. "Take me to it, please." He requested. She gave a nod and continued to creep down the corridor. Despite the fact they had giant crabs chasing them, now was all about stealth. They lost their enemies and they were avoiding being detected. _"You came here just for clear?_" she whispered, but maintained a conversation. "Yea…I promised Sierra..." he responded. It didn't make sense that he was risking his life for a drink that killed people. Why would he want to bring her clear if it was going to kill her the second it reached her stomach?

Sera crouched to give her a lighter footstep. "_A lover hmm?"_ she teased with a small giggle. "Yea…you could say that." Lyle awkwardly agreed. He was still surprised he was willing to expose that as a truth. Love wasn't something that was strongly entwined in Lyle's faith. His father wasn't exactly a positive influence either. James became a mute when it came to Catherine; the man seemed so broken over her that love almost seemed _frightful_. He saw the ruin love left his father in. It wasn't even deserved or earned. Catherine left James in a way where she was never going to come back. Perhaps Lyle's insecurities weren't exactly because he was a heartless human being, but he was terrified of breaking down like his father. Every human being was vulnerable, no man was immortal. Even the ghouls eventually corroded, the mutants bled and everyone died. The robots in the wasteland could even be powered down. _Nothing_ was immortal; there was only the delay of death.

Death wasn't a disease that had a _cure_; James of all people probably knew that. "Well what about you Miss. Mermaid?" Lyle asked coyly with a smug smirk plastered across his lips. Another menacing giggle escaped her throat. "_There's really no such thing as dating for __**mermaids**__."_ She rolled her beautiful blue eyes at Lyle's pet name. "How did you get here anyway? There's no way you can be related those _things_." He didn't want to seem insulting, but Serafina had a lovely figure, clothed and her so-called brothers were giant crabs. She seemed to be the only one with a brain here. "_I've been here well…forever. I don't really know why I'm different. I just know everyone else here are silly boys, not like you though Lyle. You don't have claws or a hard shell. You have a face, like me and speak like me. Papa is different though…..He's got the body of a man, but his face like a reptile. We're just all different. Everyone in this world is just different."_ She explained.

If she was right about anything, that was it. Windlaw, Buddy, I-Van and even Lyle were all different. There were millions of individuals on this planet, probably less because of the Great War, but they all had different paths to walk. Serafina stayed in this plant with her family, just like Lyle was locked up in a vault. The only reason they were running was because she was protecting him from _them_. She wouldn't be very safe in his vault either. Her long fingers curled around the metal handle of the maintenance door. "_What were you doing in the brewery if you were looking for clear?"_ she asked escorting him up the stairs. "I just figured it'd be in the brewery, it seemed to be the logical choice." She laughed at his statement. _"Please….__**everyone**__ knows that clear wasn't even released to the public. No one has really been working on it either."_ Lyle slowed to a stop and she turned to him. _"What?"_ she questioned. His sudden halt intrigued her. "Sera….There's no one left to work on it." He stated. _"What do you mean?"_

"Everyone is dead…." He said. It was like telling a child Gronak was only an image in a comic book. It really made him curious to know where Sera came from, considering she acted like the Plant was still in operation. How else did her family gain the opportunity to live there? Was she a mutated human? Or a mutated fish? Was she born this way? She frowned slightly at the news. _"Everyone is dead?"_ Did she ever see the outside? Did she know…anything about the world outside this facility? _"I just know what's on the terminals….e-mails from employees and shipments. Occasionally a person will come here, but my brothers always scare them away. Paul…..Paul in cubicle thirteen on the second floor, he had a date tonight. They were going to go into the city. Is that where you're from? The city?"_ she sounded excited with the idea that Lyle was from 'the city'. He really didn't want to burst her bubble; all the info she was reading off the terminals were the last data recorded two-hundred years ago. The last words of everyone before people were locked up in vaults and the bombs fell. She had the same ideals of dreaming about what the world was like, except she had evidence that was severely outdated. Lyle at least had some facts about what actually happened.

"The city?" he questioned, feeding into her fantasies. _"Oh yes! The city! I wonder if it's anything like what I saw in a burnt book. The streets and lights! Filled with cars and people. Apparently every fourth they shoot fireworks in the sky and celebrate."_ Lyle did have a clue about what she was talking about. In school his teacher occasionally mentioned pre-war customs. Celebrating birthdays was an old world thing too. He knew all too much about cars, the very idea of them and finding a few manuals, having his bike. It was all like a dream come true. Sera was a lot like him before he left the vault. A head full of ideas and dreams. Unfortunately, Lyle had a rude wake-up call and he felt bad to bring Sera's. It didn't have to be that way, right? He could make up stories about where he came from and then be on his way. That wasn't true; he knew that once he found clear Sera would probably be begging him to bring her along. "I wasn't from 'the city', but I came from a place underground. Wasn't as thrilling, but it was…it was home." That was a white lie through his teeth. It wasn't home now, but _was_. "There are more places out there other than 'the city'. I've been to those places." He confessed.

She enjoyed this conversation more and more as she quickened her pace up the flight of rickety stairs. "_I've always wanted to go to the city. Wait! We should go there together!_" bingo. Now he was in a bit of a predicament. Lyle couldn't be promising a visit to 'the city' if it didn't even exist. It was destroyed with the rest of the world when the bombs dropped. How come Lyle knew this better and he literally lived under a rock? Windlaw knew more than the vault-rat and he came from a vault too. Things just weren't set up how they were supposed to be. The people were lied to and tested on, so why was it surprising now? Lyle's life was founded upon lies. _Lies_. It was more than just being betrayed, he wanted the truth. How much did James know? What was going through James' head? If the vault wasn't James' life, then what was? Who was Catherine? Yes, she was Lyle's mother that died, but who _was_ she? Did she dream too? Did James dream? What was really sacrificed here? He lowered his chin slightly as he followed the mermaid up the stairs. The stairwell lit up as they approached a grungy window. No wonder Sera never knew the truth; nothing could be seen through the inch of crusted dirt. Regardless, he approached the pane and gently set his fingers on the glass.

Sera ceased climbing and turned to face him. "_What's wrong?"_ she asked. "Nothing…" Lyle brushed her off and lowered his hand. "_Don't lie. I can__** feel**__ your sadness."_ She persisted. "You can what?" he repeated confused. Her cold hands lifted to his cheekbones and she held his face towards her. _"Shhhh." _ She hushed. _ Feel _his sadness. Serafina was an empath? She was strange and new, but he felt like he knew her, he felt safe. Even her thumbs against his ears was comforting. Perhaps she was a siren after-all, slowly luring him in and then would kill him. This was all some sort of spell, it had to be, yet despite his suspicion, he couldn't break free of it. Her glimmering blue hues fixated on him as though she were trying to read him. There was no one he spoke to about his feelings and she could see right through him. She saw the misery, the pain and probably the anger that lingered inside of him. He could feel it all weigh down his heart and slowly tear it apart. Her hand still smoothed over his cheek as she looked at him with her beautiful blue hues. It was slowly crushing him inside, every day that passed, the wave grew bigger.

He thought Sierra's acceptance or any acceptance would ease that agony. Now, he doubted if finding his father or knowing the truth would fix it. There was serious hatred looming inside of himself and _nothing_ was going to solve it, nothing but himself. Here he was, in this rut that was slowly drowning him. His face hardened over with sadness and his green hues teared. There wasn't an easy definition to explain what was wrong. In this case, it was simple because Sera saw him like an open book. Might as well wear his problems like a wardrobe. He didn't love Sera, but she may make things complicated. He didn't say a word, nor did he fret, he just removed himself from her touch and continued up the stair. Sera was going to be a parasite that was going to leech her way into his feelings. In a sense, she was very dangerous. Without her help though, he wouldn't find clear. He still debated actually getting it; he could turn around and leave. Leave her here so that all of his complications could be avoided, but that was very cowardly. Running away wasn't going to solve anything. Fleeing only created problems. There was no finish line in this race.

His figure slowed to a stop as he approached the second floor door. _Where are you going?_ The voice began to whisper again. He could feel the pain wrench his heart as every syllable murmured burned his ear. All he wanted was to _know_. There was never going to be satisfaction until he got answers from the one man he was trekking to find. His hand reached into his pocket and fetched the lighter. He flipped the metal cap open and set a flame. The orange color rippled in the air as his green hues stared at it dance. What was going to happen once he found all the answers? Would he be _cured_ of this poison? There was a diminished light inside of his soul, the same hopeless entity he observed in James' eyes. He could feel it, he always knew it was there, but what was missing from both their lives? The truth? A person? Life? James never expressed himself, he never saw him cry or swear. In a lot of ways, the master was just as empty as his creation. WHY! Why? It frustrated Lyle because the vice of his father haunted him, the source of mystery. The man was a complete stranger, becoming more and more vacant as Lyle uncovered the truth. There was no truth in anything, only lies. Even if it was a white lie or a whole ream of corruption. All truly wanted to see now was the closing curtain to this tragedy.

_Of course I'm afraid. I'm afraid a lot of times Lyle, but bravery isn't the absence of fear, merely overcoming the fear itself._

James was nothing less than a great father and that's why it hurt so much when he left. He was literally everything Lyle had and leaving him in the vault took that away. What did James honestly think Lyle would do after? His son may have co-dependency issues, but who wouldn't when locked up underground with nothing but family. He wasn't going to bang Susie Mack forever or be a dog for Amata. Butch wasn't going to give him an easier time either. If anything Lyle would probably end up rotting to death in the brig. The only reason he evaded the Overseer's wrath was because of James' influence. Which that, itself didn't add up. How come James had such power…and if he didn't even come from vault 101, how the hell did he even get in? Sera seemed awfully quiet, could she hear his thoughts? Was he spilling out everything about himself and not even knowing it? It was a possibility considering he knew that the girl already had charm, sex-appeal, empathy and she could turn invisible. What else could wonder-woman have? God knew.

She had more capabilities than Windlaw and the green giant was pretty evil when provoked. That was obvious considering he smashed his owner like jelly with a steel shield. He had a decent heart, but there still existed those brute-like tendencies. I-Van was a circuit board of Dr. Jekyll of Mr. Hyde. Buddy, well Buddy wasn't violent so it was a good balance. As for Lyle though it was obvious what his capabilities were. His green eyes lowered to his dirty hands as the whispers still taunted him. There were moments where he felt like he was inside of himself. Inside some sort of shell instead of being his actual self. The ability to look over his life without actually being there. As though he were observing instead of living. It happened when Ron beat him, when the death claw had him on the ground. That slow bubble where time seemed to freeze. There was nothing but a numb shroud dulling every feeling. His chin lifted as he shifted his gaze to the grungy walls. His capabilities are what got him this far. They were the very thing that was going to see this through. From beginning to end. The farther he pushed the more he learned, the more he doubted.

All this time he was asking why or striving after his father, when the real question should have been a little more selfish. What was Lyle going to make of his life, what was he going to do with it? James just sparked and fed an anger that was always there. "So you can _feel_ my sadness?" Lyle asked as he enclosed his fingers into a fist. His feet pivoted to look at her a few steps down. "You know everything?" his tone was rather spiteful, but it was clear he was still disturbed. "Then you tell me why!" he yelled, causing her to jump. "Why do I feel so empty inside? Why have I always felt this way, rejected from the beginning? Before James ever left. Why the fuck can't I find the fucking answer? No matter how much I try to equate it or conclude it. Why have I been digging myself a ditch with quick fixes or result less choices?" As he kept speaking his voice softened a little because his attention was now diverted to making conclusions by himself. "I've been striving for the answer….why the fuck can't I find it?" he practically whispered as he sat down on the top step. His hands moved to brush over his scalp. Serafina lowered the fist she put over her heart from the previous startle.

Her glittering blue eyes settled on the young man and she could feel the agony radiate off of his figure. She climbed up to sit next to him on the top step, looking out towards the dirty window. _"There is no answer….Life isn't some sort of equation where there's only one right answer."_ She stated lifting a small hand to place on his back. _"I know you don't see it that way, but it's just easier to have those kinds of answers."_ She continued. Her fingers spread across his shoulder blade as she smoothed her palm over his flesh. _"The problem isn't because you don't have an answer. You've known all along why. You just never let it go."_ She finished, her voice was soft and consoling. He looked over at her; that face, those eyes. There was no way he could be mad at her. She was just trying to help, but she was also _right_. As stubborn and independent as Lyle was. Serafina was right. He knew why he tried so hard to fix things, even if it was quick. Why he tried so hard to abide by his father and why he felt the need to kill his father from betrayal. It was something James _said_ that started all of this.

* * *

James stood at his desk. "_Lyle I have had enough of this_" he harshly spoke. "Dad, it wasn't a big deal, we were just acting stupid. Nothing happened." His father paced and threw his index up at his son. _"Don't give me that. You were drunk. All of you! What if I hadn't found you first? Could you imagine what the Overseer would have done if he caught you_ ?_" _his father continued to nag. "But nothing happened Dad! NOTHING. We weren't doing anything bad, other than being intoxicated. " James halted in front of his desk and leaned a hand on the edge. The same phrase his father _always_ said since the very beginning of time escaped his lips. Every time Lyle got into trouble or if there was even a hint of danger. James **always** said the same thing: _"Lyle I just want you to be safe. __**Please don't break my promise**__**." **_What was that supposed to mean? That was one time, but what about when Lyle was five, eight, twelve, sixteen….now? "What do you mean Dad?" Lyle inquired, always trying to find out why his father chose those words. _"Go to your room Lyle, this discussion is over."_

* * *

"Every time I fucked up…He said the same exact thing." Lyle stated. "**Please don't break my promise."** His thumb flicked another flame from his lighter as he watched the fire dance. "I never knew what he meant by it, but he always said it, for as long as I can remember. He never told me either, so I guess I just felt responsible. I had to keep _his_ promise and I didn't even know what the hell it was. I've busted my ass to own up to it. Only to have him shut the door in my face by ditching. 'I'm not going to be around to hold your hand forever' that's what he said to me the day before he left. The same man that preached about us being together and keeping promises." He closed the cap over the flame and diminished the small source of light. "I spent so much time blaming myself for never being good enough to be rejected." He explained. "You're right Sera. I spent so much time blaming myself when it really wasn't **my** problem. Even now, I haven't let it go." He took the lighter and slipped it back into his pocket. "James' promise was _his_ to keep, not mine." He concluded. A frown composed on his face as he lowered his chin slightly "Fuck you Sera." He muttered. She had his guts on the floor now and he melted like putty in her palms.

There was no victory or content, no discrimination or yanking him by the ear. She just sat there silently, still stroking his back. Generally, she had genuine concern. Fish-girl simply _cared_. Once again Sera leaned in and pecked his cheek, which made him look at her with confusion. "Why do you keep kissing me?" he asked, now he really wanted to know. She shrugged, with a cute smiled and rosy freckled cheeks. _"Why not?_"


	19. Chapter 18: I Should Have Known Better

Why not? Maybe because it seemed wrong, right? He loved Sierra and having a strange woman kissing him was wrong. Yet, he still didn't answer her. Why not? His head was telling him to say something because he was taught that cheating was wrong, but in his heart; this felt right. Lyle didn't suddenly love Sera, but she was filling the loneliness. Coming to that conclusion made it almost obvious that he was using her. This was just the mild form because he had just met her, but if she did come with them and she did stick around. What would be the extents of their relationship? Lyle finally had something right with a woman and he was already screwing it up. What Sierra didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Why was he thinking like this? Sera really was a siren, she **had** to be. He had just met her and was already questioning his loyalties. How was he going to break free though? A strong part of him…._didn't want to_.

Instead of fighting back or saying something, he followed her through the rows of cubicles to the back door. Next to the wooden frame was a gold engraved plaque, the name was worn and it was unreadable. Sera gingerly opened the door and trotted in. A smile was plastered across her lips as she danced towards the safe on the ground, waving her hands out towards it. _"I've never been able to open it, it's locked, but the terminal says it's in there."_ She explained tapping her light fingers on the top. "It's locked huh?" Lyle repeated taking his pistol out of its holster and aiming it at the keypad. His index squeezed the trigger and several bullets plowed through the mechanism. Sera scrambled away from the metal black box and hugged her thin torso. She really needed to get used to Lyle's spontaneity. He crouched down in front of the box and pried the door open. As the entry creased, light escaped from the corners of the container.

His green hues fixated on the glowing object inside. A glass Nuka-Cola bottle that had a clear liquid with a white glow. His lips parted as he watched tiny particles shimmer within the concoction. This was clear and it was beautiful. Quantum was magnificent for its unique bluish glow, but clear put that all to shame. Sierra spoke often of quantum making people's stomachs glow, which made it interesting to drink. Clear on the other hand was so visually appealing, it was hard to imagine that it killed people. He reached in and gripped the bottle, watching all the particles gravitate to where he made contact. "Amazing.." he breathed pulling it from the confines of the safe. **"Lyle!"** a loud voice echoed through the walls followed by the low rumble of heavy footsteps. _"Who is that?"_ Sera questioned backing into the wall. He looked up towards the doorway. "It's Windlaw, my super mutant friend….WINDLAW!" he returned the call. _"Super Mutant?"_ she asked, her voice seemed frightened. "Hey, he's nice. Not like the rest of his kind." Lyle defended as he shifted his gaze to her.

Sera bit her bottom lip and shook her head, showing plain fear on her face. The rumbling grew in volume and a few things shifted on the desk as Windlaw's weight disturbed everything. Lyle watched as waves of lavender light flowed over her skin and slowly caused her to vanish. Was there anything this woman _couldn't_ do? "Sera? C'mon Windlaw isn't scary…Sera?" he whispered trying to see her, but there was no evidence of her presence. The green giant was in the door already with Buddy and I-Van. "**Lyle? Buddy came for me, I thought you were hurt.**" He explained. The human slowly nodded, keeping his eyes in search for her. "I had help…" he slowly informed, looking over his shoulder. Windlaw watched Lyle look around aimlessly, but simply watched for explanation. "Serafina. She turned invisible though because she's afraid of super mutants." He explained. The giant was trying to understand as he nodded, sweeping the room himself for a gander, but nothing. **"Serafina? I won't hurt you.**" He announced.

Lyle stood with clear in his hand, lifting it to briefly show Windlaw, but their attention was settled on finding the mystery girl. "Sera?" he called out again. She still didn't answer and that made his heart sink a little. "I guess the most I got was her help…" he finished walking towards the door. Windlaw watched the human exit the room, taking one more sweep of the area before exiting. Lyle walked with his gaze on his feet, letting the soles of his boots scuff the dirty floor. He really shouldn't be surprised, everything was turning to shit since he left vault 101. There was no such thing as hopes or dreams, just one goal. Perhaps that's why he felt so diminished, there was nothing left for him other than what was ahead. He wasn't very fond of his narrow road. Nothing stopped him from heading straight for the front door. No word, conversation or feeling made him look back as he passed through the threshold. The sunlight from outside rained down on him, engulfing him in a ray of fire. **"Lyle?**" Windlaw beckoned after the human as they both exited the building. He followed Lyle who picked up pace as he walked to the center of the ruin road. **"Lyle!"** the giant demanded and the boy spun around. "What!" he yelled back. Both of them kept their distance from each other. Windlaw fell silent after the brief outburst, but that only invited Lyle to rant. "What! What is it?" his voice gasped, sounded defeated rather than annoyed or angered.

"**Why do you fret?"** the giant inquired meekly, which was odd for a super mutant. Lyle's brows arched and his expression looked surprised more than anything. "Why am I upset?" he repeated. One hand was still occupied by Clear and the other grabbed the pistol, pointing the nozzle to the ground. "You want to know what has been upsetting me? Why I'm so angry being in this _fucked up situation_." Now his voice sounded frustrated as he jabbed the gun in the air. "It's because every little thing in my life that was even slightly decent is DESTROYED! For one reason or another. I'm going to find James and then what! My life doesn't mean jack shit Windlaw and every day that passes I get reminded of it. I can't _fix_ this bullshit, I can only trudge on and hope it's gonna get fucking better!" he went on, his mouth flattening out into a frown. "I ask myself why every day and the one thing I should be asking is WHY I haven't put a fucking bullet in my head!" his green eyes looked at Windlaw and he could see such defeat. "There's not an ounce of pity either in store for me….I don't want it, because I did this all to myself…" he lowered the pistol, placing it back in its holster. "I can blame James or say it was the vault, but I _made_ this happen. I..I _couldn't let go…_" he confessed lifting Clear to view; now it looked like plain water in the sunlight.

He could just go back to Smith Casey's live the rest of his life, but the question was; is that what he really wanted? No. Lyle wanted to do something meaningful, he wanted to build, to invent, to create. This whole thing grew from just wanting to seek revenge. There were questions, mysteries that needed to be solved. The vaults, James' past and where James went. "I'm not..upset Windlaw. I just know what needs to be done now." He turned to end the conversation as he pressed the call button on his pip-boy. The bike glided from behind the building and stopped before him. Lyle placed the bottle in the side compartment and mounted. He picked up Buddy and set him in his lap. "The flooded metro is east from here. Gob said if we take it, it should spit us out in the dc area close to G N R." he informed. The giant remained speechless since the stream of yells came from Lyle. There was still some sort of ice between the two of them. As though one was hiding from the other. Either Lyle had a lot of things to come to terms with or Windlaw needed to. **"If the master gave us the power to rule the stars, this is the last place I would be."** The giant spoke like some sort of fortune cookie. He did that often, just saying things. Plain and simple without much elaboration.

* * *

"**So I finally decided to sit down and speak to my..pip-boy. This isn't intended to go in as a report. I forgot about Vault 101 and I can't even remember **_**her**_** face. What's the point of continuing? What's the point if I already feel so empty and defeated inside? If I find James and I kill him, what then? My life is so shredded that even if I did find him right now, there'd be nothing to go back to. I changed and the Vault has probably changed. So where do I belong? I can feel it pitted inside of me. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work to achieve my goals, it's still going to fulfill nothing. Just temporarily cover the void that is within me. How am I supposed to get out of the cycle of the same routine? It doesn't matter if I find James or not, I've used him as blame to solve issues that will always thrive even after I hunt him down. That won't solve anything."**

* * *

His green eyes squinted from the sun's radiant beams as he stared at the dark entrance of the flooded Metro. Why did Gob claim it to be flooded? There wasn't any evidence of water. Windlaw stood close behind him and Buddy at his feet. I-Van was moseying around a few yards away. At least the dysfunctional eye-bot didn't go far, as long as he stayed within a certain distance, all was good. Serafina vanished at the Nuka-Cola Plant because Windlaw scared her off. She was one of the most unique and magnificent creatures Lyle had ever witnessed. They were all different in their own way. Windlaw, Buddy and I-Van. He lifted his wrist to bend his ligaments so that the leather glove over his hand fit better. What was so dangerous about this place that had Gob, gift him with such an eldritch mask? Windlaw didn't seem to have a take on it, though he did stand behind Lyle and whispered over his shoulder. **"They say the ferals haunt the underground subways."** He said, which now Gob's gift became clear. Lyle reached into his bag that he took from the bike and pulled out the atrocious looking facial garment. His green hues lifted from the object back at the dark gate of the subway.

All of his memories seemed to be fading and melded into figments. Everything was a giant lie and even the vault itself was a government conspiracy, a test of evolution. His eyes lowered to the mask as his fingers brushed over the rough and grooved surface. Every step he took only led him deeper into a place he didn't want to be and it had nothing to do with the terrain he trekked. A short smirk tugged at his lips as the colossal hand of Windlaw placed on Lyle's broad shoulder. If anything, Lyle benefitted from this trip by gaining allies, friends and people who needed him just as much as he needed them. "Where would you rather be, Windlaw?" he inquired regarding their argument the other day. "If you could be anywhere else, where would you rather be?" he swallowed the stone knotted in his throat. The giant with his hand still on his comrade's shoulder took a deep breath because he took this question into sincere contemplation. **"Well."** The giant began in his deep booming voice that even elevated above normal as a 'whisper'. **"I'd want to be back at my vault to be honest. Before the truth broke out and before all hell plagued its corridors. I'd be more than delighted to sit in the café, speaking to Fawkes over some joe."** He explained. Lyle nodded, acknowledging the answer of his friend, but the giant knew not to question in return.

Lyle didn't know where he'd be, but now that he asked and it strummed across his mind. Where would he be? He knew from that moment on that he'd be at his door, opening it to see Sierra standing there with the faint glow of the Quantum Flower. If anything made him feel happy or even remotely complete, it was the chance of meeting her and eventually falling in love. If that's what _this_ was, love. The adoring and missing her to an extent he couldn't explain other than a heavy burden in his chest. The very idea of it caused him to smile subtly. That was where he'd be, back in Girdershade, being the mysterious inventor at Smith Casey's and a wonderful partner for Sierra. He nodded once more and Windlaw's hand released his shoulder. It was amazing what an individual valued the most, what truly touched their hearts and that very thing they'd long for when there wasn't even hope to grasp. Not speaking more, he stood a casual step to drop to the first landing of the cement stairwell to the foreboding gate. "I guess I shouldn't put this on until I need to." He stated, but he still kept it in his hand as he descended for the entrance. Windlaw and Buddy were close behind, I-Van still dawdling like a bimbo.

He stopped as the cold musky air from the terminal brushed past his cheeks and he looked to the run mole rat. Kneeling down ad looked at Buddy and gently scratched the rough skin on his scalp. "You hide…and be safe until I call for you." He instructed, just like every time before and the rodent obliged as he turned to sneak into a storm vent near the entrance. Somehow the rodent always found Lyle and somehow he managed to survive. Standing back up he took a look at Windlaw. "Here we go." He commented as he pulled on the rusted gate, which gave a loud creak. The scratching of dry metal echoed through the tunnel and Lyle heard a raspy wail beckon back. Even though the odd collaboration of calls frightened him, he took a step over the pile of soot and into the terminal. The pip-boy lights illuminated a small segment with dull light as his eyes attempted to adjust to the dark setting. "How are we supposed to find our way through this?" Lyle inquired, but his voice was hushed. There were scurries swiftly across the cement pavement and Lyle turned abruptly towards the disruption. He lifted up his wrist to try and spread the light, but he couldn't see anything, just two beady glints in the shadows.

"Windlaw….what is that?" Lyle whispered as he tried to hold his wrist out to reveal what was standing there. A loud hiss sounded and the shadow lunged from the darkness into the light. Lyle jumped as the light revealed the rotting and rusty flesh of a malnourished creature. It didn't how frail it looked because its teeth were replaced with sharp metal, glass and its nails practically like talons. Windlaw moved first to throw an arm into the tiny figure of the creature; it seemed more interested in Lyle than the super mutant. **"Put it on!" **He roared as Lyle shifted his hands to get the mask positioned right. Without much hesitation and warning from what Gob said he pressed it to his face. As soon as it went on, there was silence. Still holding the mask to his face he looked at a few ferals simply standing there. They were so gauntly and ghoulish. "That's all?" Lyle inquired still holding the mask to his cheek bones. Gob made it sound so ominous and almost dangerous to use and yet, he was standing there, perfectly fine with the mask pressed to his face. Windlaw paused to look over at Lyle, he seemed just as curious about it. He took a cautious step towards the statues that wheezed uneasily, but as soon as he moved he felt something tickling his spine. "Wha, gaahh ugh!" he yelled as he dropped his arms to his stomach, but the mask didn't seem to fall from his face. He flipped his chin up as his face began to burn. **"Lyle! LYLE!"** Windlaw's voice beckon with concern and the world collapsed into darkness.

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"Amata. Hey Amata." Lyle's childish voice asked as he rushed across the room to climb onto the bench next to her. He held up a small thimble to her and smiled. "Look. It's a present for you!" he gushed. The small dark-haired girl plucked it from his index and eyed it. **"Lyle why are you giving me a thimble?"** she asked as though she wasn't entirely sure why he'd do such a thing. "It's in the story-books." He argued in his innocent manner. "You know what happens when Wendy gets a thimble right?" he inquired. Amata shook her head, frowning slightly at the gift she presented to her. He lifted a pudgy finger to point at the round metal cylinder. "That is a kiss." She frowned even more. **"Then what is a thimble?"**

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Hai guys! Sorry for the huge delay, some computer problems and having my college semester bogged down my schedule. Skyrim too kind of veered me from Lyle's story, but he called out to me and here's Chapter 18! I Hope it was worth the wait! Those of you who have been reading, I do wish to tell you that I will continue writing this until I finish, no matter how long it takes! I'd love to see your reviews


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